


Penny Dreadful

by Anonymouscosmos



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, i hate shaun but i'm embracing it this time i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:14:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 44,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25981924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymouscosmos/pseuds/Anonymouscosmos
Summary: Penny, ex-navy mechanic, known for her terrible cooking and two guns on her hips, sets about building an army and setting a lot of wrongs right again. Maybe she'll blow the Institute up. Maybe she'll just make them a pot of chili and let that do the rest. Who knows.-Danse finds himself incredibly annoyed with the new recruit, and annoyed with himself for almost liking her for it. She is unprofessional, rude, crass, and really goddamn cute.
Relationships: Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor
Comments: 15
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

_Pain; your body’s alarm bells. Nerve impulses screeching their way up to the receptors in your brain. Pain sharpened your wits, invoked adrenaline, told you that you were still alive. Pain often came with other things, too. Fear. Flight response. Dread. The remnants of humanity’s time as prey... before fire was harnessed and stone was shaped. When the things that went bump in the night could sink into us with gleaming fang and claw; the scent of mortality in the air. The stink of terror, clinging to one’s skin. Pain, fear, dread, and the mind crying out run, run, run._

_Pain is more than a response to wounds of the flesh. When experiencing sorrow, traumatic memories, or other emotional duress - the brain triggers all the sensations one feels in times of true physical pain. Emotional pain becomes physical, as the brain attempts to reconcile what is happening. As far as the brain is concerned, you are actually hurt - and in this case, manifests it to be so. Heartbreak is aptly named, for the stricken feeling in your chest - the phantom pain of a cracked heart still beating - is real._

The pain in my chest was definitely real, so terribly real I found myself holding a hand to the aching chasm beneath my sternum. I couldn’t breathe. My vision was an endless tunnel, the light at the end of it dwindling as my body fully engaged panic mode. I stood in the kitchen of my old home, legs splayed out like a newborn colt’s, hands on my thighs to keep myself from falling. I was still hunched over the remnants of whatever I had last eaten on October 23, 2077. My legs shook, my body trembled. I wasn’t sure if it was from the violent force with which I had evicted my last lunch from my body, or cryo sickness. Probably a little of Column A as well as Column B. I closed my eyes, tried to focus on my shuddering breathing. Spasms still wreaked havoc on my stomach, relaying messages to my gag reflex that there was probably more hellfire coming so stay tuned.

That’s the worst part about throwing up. Your body’s insistence on keeping it going long after there is nothing left in your belly. Between that, and the shakes that would not stop coursing through my muscles, I was in bad shape.

To be fair, I’m not a delicate creature. I have never been weak, squeamish, or afraid of getting my hands dirty. But I had just drug myself out of an abandoned vault full of dead people... people I had once known and cared about. My most recent memory was waking up in an ice box and watching someone murder my husband and steal my baby. I would say if anyone deserved a moment to lean over a pile of rejected Blamco mac n cheese while shaking and crying, it’s me. Besides, if anything it was an improvement to the mac n cheese. That would teach me to try and cook anything.

I’d staggered out into a world that was a mere shadow of itself. The bombs had destroyed everything I’d ever known. I’d found myself stepping over the bones of my old neighbors, leaning against long-dead trees while my body fought against everything I was asking it to do. I’d made it back to my home - or what had been my home - to find nothing but some more giant, disgusting bugs and my loyal Codsworth still trimming the azaleas. Except there weren’t any azaleas, and he was just frantically cutting some pathetic weeds that had managed to break the surface. I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was a pointless effort, so I didn’t.

Turns out I had been a popsicle for 200 years. Codsworth didn’t believe that Nate was dead. That my baby, Shaun, was taken. Considering he couldn’t handle the death of the azaleas either, I tried to give it to him softly. Last thing I needed was for him to short-circuit and go out of commission. I wasn’t sure I could repair him. I’d never been up to my elbows in RobCo anything. Fixing a Mr Handy was about as foreign to me as… well, shit, this new world I was in. Codsworth informed me there wasn’t a soul living in my old neighborhood, and if I wanted help searching for my son, I was going to have to branch out. Do a little networking. He suggested I head out to Concord, there were sometimes settlers and traders there. 

Well, the first thing to do was arm myself. I had two pistols I’d managed to pull from the skeletal hands of dead men... _ew..._ and had one holstered on each hip. If the giant irradiated roaches were any indication of what I had to look forward to, I shuddered at the thought of a tarantula. I mean, I actually shuddered. But we will blame it on the cryo sickness. I wonder how long I can use that as my scapegoat. I’m totally not afraid of spiders and totally don’t freak the absolute fuck out if I see one. Oh, if only I had a minigun. Or a flame thrower. Or a Fat Man. A Fat Man would kill a big spider. 

Anyway, I’m getting a little ahead of myself. I had up to this point refused to go inside my old house. I wasn’t ready for that, not just yet. So, after piecing together an outfit that would make Mad Max proud and cobbling together the holsters, I decided to brave my old home. I stepped through the gaping doorway; the front door had long since perished - lying inside the home where it had landed after the bomb’s shockwave tore it from the hinges. Glass crunched under my boots and I winced at the sound of it in the midst of the stillness of the place. The couches were dilapidated, the fabric burst open and springs popped through, batting hanging in soggy tatters from exposure to rain coming through the defeated roof. 

In the kitchen was where I fell apart. Amidst the wreckage of everything falling from the cabinets and shelves was an old glass baby bottle. I stood among the pots and pans and broken glass and dead leaves and rot, and I leaned over and belted out the contents of my stomach in entirety. I guess that was when the shock started wearing off, and the enormity of everything I had just seen hit me. Like a cargo vessel. In a hurricane. During armageddon. And now here I stood, gulping for air like a beached sea creature, lips trying to shape words but only trembling as I struggled to reign in the wonderfully complex cacophony of emotions my nervous system was being ravaged by.

It was as though the world before me faded away, softening, blurring - replaced by that which had been. In my mind’s eye, I saw my home as it had been before the bombs fell. The bright, airy kitchen. The floor so new it still squeaked underfoot. My first cup of coffee for the day, the paper fresh off the doorstep. Setting Shaun’s bottle on the counter, meaning to place it in the warmer but getting distracted by the latest headline. Nate sprawled out on the couch, all long limbs... half watching the TV and half reading a book. It was a lazy, delicious morning. A rare one, when we were all together. Nate was working on his engineering degree, so he spent the days at home with our son and most of his nights studying. I spent my days in a grease pit, repairing ungrateful wealthy people’s shit. Well ok they weren’t all ungrateful. And sometimes I got to work on some pretty sweet stuff. But usually it was ungrateful wealthy people, complaining about the price of basic maintenance on a Chryslus Cherry Bomb they could have purchased three more times without so much as blinking. One for each of their useless spoiled kids. 

Shaun’s cry, not a cry of distress but a cry for attention - and that tug I always felt, like an invisible cord hooked from him to somewhere beyond my navel. The ghost of it shattered the illusion surrounding me, the trance broke, and I was back to standing in my decimated home with steaming puke on the ground in front of me.

OK, I was done with this foray into my old life. This was too painful, too real, to close, too soon. _Pick it up, Penny, put it in a box and lock it away. Right now you’ve gotta get your ass in gear and see about finding your son._ In addition to my winning smile, prize winning peanut butter sandwiches, and staggering beauty… har, har… Compartmentalizing was up there with my best traits. I probably learned it from serving in the Navy for all those years and being surrounded by a bunch of jackasses that were at worst total creeps and at best awesome guys I’d trust with my life. There were a few of us girls, but not many. Other servicewomen seemed to prefer the Army. Less time at sea, more time on land. Who wanted to be stuck in a glorified sardine can for months at a time?

Compartmentalizing is great. Until it’s not. Boxing things up and stuffing them under your metaphorical bed can come back to fuck with you, but hey, when you’re standing in the middle of a world ravaged by bombs 200 years past your expiration date… you do what you gotta do. 

I willed my wobbly legs to move, forced them to propel me out the door. I sagged against the door frame, looked out at the last rays of sun playing over the graveyard that was Sanctuary Hills, and decided Concord could wait for a night. I was in no shape to go chasing down settlers or shoot antennae off of gross bugs. Just thinking about throwing up made me want to throw up some more. Cold sweat covered my skin in a sickly sheen. Yeah, bedtime for me. Then Concord. Then maybe wreaking vengeance and defeating evil from the back of a hellhound. I decided on heading over to the Rosa’s old house. It seemed to have more roof than mine, anyway… and I had liked Rosa. I’d given her some advice from time to time on the old Corvega she had been renovating, but I’m lazy, so… I neglected to offer any actual assistance. My rule has always been I don’t do work for friends. I let the boys at Red Rocket garage do the rest of the work for her. 

It felt right to stay in her home. Whatever had happened to her, she wasn’t here to get mad at me for crashing on her couch anyway. As I pushed the groaning old door open and surveyed her living room, I saw her couch wasn’t exactly in better condition than mine. Well, hell. Might as well pull off the cushions and sleep on the frame like a cot. I’d rather sleep without the pillows than with them, and I’d be skewered by the springs at any rate. Did my last tetanus shot still count if I’d received it 203 years ago? I’d have to ask my doctor. Oh wait, he was dead, too. My stomach lurched again. _Oh no you dont. Nope. We are not thinking about any of this. Quiet, you, or I’ll give you the springs._

I lowered my wobbly self onto the denuded couch, wadded up my jacket for a pillow, and sprawled out on the skeleton of wood and wire framing. Eh, could be worse. It would do. I was asleep within minutes. The sleeping was the rough part. All the boxes I’d jammed under the bed from the day came flying out, the things I didn’t want to think about refusing to be ignored. Yeah, remember, I warned you about this. Compartmentalizing only works for so long. And when you’re sleeping, and your subconscious is a soft and malleable thing, that’s when it all comes back and rules you. 

I watched the muzzle flash and my husband’s body slump over and over and over that night. Heard my son’s piercing cry, alarmed, as he was ripped from Nate’s arms - so many times it became one long, screeching wail that threatened to rupture my eardrums. I was on a tilt-a-whirl, the events flashing past me too quickly. I couldn’t stop, couldn’t focus on it, it was just a whirling blur of flashes and cries and a blue vault suit stained with the blood of someone who was really, really important to me. 

The only proof I’d slept was the nightmares. When I finally lost the battle with sleep and sat up, it was very early morning. The sky had gone from midnight blue to a hazy robin’s egg, the surrounding hills tipped with pink. I stretched, and realized I felt a hell of a lot better - physically, anyway. The shakes were gone from my limbs and my stomach had resigned itself to an undramatic tedium. My cheeks were chapped from tears shed while I slept, my eyelashes crusted. I rubbed at them until my vision was clear, rolled off the couch and onto my feet. I locked all the things I’d just rehashed in my own personal hell back into their boxes, shoved them back under the bed. Then I ransacked Amelia’s old kitchen. Cram, ok, hard pass on that. I don’t eat canned meat. That is some real disgusting shit. Some petrified Blamco--NOT LOOKING AT THOSE BOXES, TOO SOON… aha, some cans of pork beans. Bless pop-top cans. 

If you’ve never drank beans, I don’t recommend it. They were so thick and soupy I had a hell of a time eating them without a spoon. I didn’t really think about the potential for radioactive poisoning until after the entire can was in my body, but there had to be some irony to me surviving 200 years, battling giant bugs, and then succumbing to the horrors of pork-n-beans. Worthy irony. Fine, if the beans wanted to kill me, then they deserved to live as top of the food chain.

I dusted myself off - wiped my face with a sleeve in case I’d missed any beans - and slung my guns back around my hips. Maybe if I found some traders I could get a better setup. Maybe some thigh rigs. And what would I trade? A lock of my hair? _Ok, Penny, you do that. I’m sure people living in a post-apocalyptic society have never seen filthy hair before. What a novel trade commodity._

I was as set as I was going to be. Water was going to become an urgent item eventually, but I was banking on finding some friendly faces in Concord and maybe getting a little help. Hopefully someone could explain the nuances of living in the land of rad roaches. I headed down the road and out of Sanctuary, cheerfully waving at Codsworth. He didn’t notice me. He was aggressively attacking the ‘azaleas’ again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She doesn't meet Danse yet. Patience. I need groundwork! :B

It was by the Red Rocket garage between Sanctuary Hills and Concord that I met a dog, who obviously immediately became my dog. I’m not trying to be dramatic, but I’d die for that dog. I have always been a dog person. We had a Cocker Spaniel named Jesus Christ growing up. I wish I was joking, but dad yelled it at her so much it kind of overrode the previous plan. Poor Daisy became ‘Jesus Christ’ unofficially at first, and then officially when we got her tags made. We kids called her ‘J.C.’ for short, because my deeply religious mother was having none of us blaspheming. She might not be able to smack decency into dad, but the rest of us toed the line very carefully. She had a legendary Irish temper. 

Nate used to make fun of me, because any time I saw a dog my voice went up several octaves. I can’t help it, they’re fluffy and they’re cute, ok? So when the fluffiest German Shepherd ever came trotting up to me with a tattered teddy bear hanging from his jaws, and looked up at me with giant chocolate eyes, I might have shrieked a little. He didn’t even blink, just dropped the bear and accepted my affections with a doggy grin on his face.

I won’t apologize for shrieking, either. It was just really good to know this world had  _ something  _ that wasn’t an irradiated monster in it. Something I could sit down next to and wrap my arms around. I’m not going to make light of the situation that lay before me. The truth is, my heart was in peril. The bridge between sanity and being more than a little mad was half-built and my feet were just touching the cross beams. The Irish Catholic part of me looked down at that damn dog and thought, wow, 200 years later and someone is  _ still _ looking out for me. Whether I truly believe that, at this point, I couldn’t say. But right then, I did. I don’t know how anyone goes through a serious trauma and comes out of it with their faith intact. 

From the Red Rocket, we went on to Concord - my new pal at my heels. A bunch of raiders had pinned down a group of settlers, and the town was a war zone. The raiders lined the street leading up to the Museum of Freedom, and were focusing their fire on whoever was returning fire from the balcony. I’m a pretty good shot. I was the only kid who had any interest in dad’s hobbies of target shooting and hunting, so I guess I started young. After I enlisted, there was boot camp. That was really more 30% physical training and 70% psychological games meant to break you down and build you up stronger. I wasn’t a fan of that. My drill sergeants and I didn’t see eye to eye, and we’ll just say I did a  _ lot  _ of push ups.

After boot, I went to ‘A’ school. There I received training and was assigned as an Aviation Structural Mechanic Petty Officer First Class. That’s a lot of words for:  _ me fix stuff good. _ I shipped out shortly after. So, while I’d spent most of my military career working on jets, I knew my way around guns well enough. The narrow streets of Concord, with all their winding alleys, were perfect for cover under fire. I had about 90 rounds on me between the two guns on my hips and reloads, so with the help of Dogmeat -yep, that’s what I named him - and the two 10mm handguns, we got them cleared out. One of them had managed to get a shot in - a bullet glancing my left arm. I took a look at it briefly when the fight was over. It wasn’t serious. Bled like hell, courtesy of my pumping heart, but it was just a surface wound..

The settlers were being led by a man named Preston Garvey. I liked him right away. He had a genuine sweetness about him, and his eyes were open and honest. You don’t often meet people like that - still good and selfless despite being surrounded by a hard world. Preston believed in fighting to protect people. He’d have made a great cop, before things went kablooey. I considered being a cop, but I don’t think it was the right call for me. My mouth gets me in trouble a lot, so there is that… but also I don’t think I’d like seeing nothing but the worst side of humanity, day in and day out. That’s a little too dark for me. So I stuck with what I knew best - fixing things. Just not as glamorous as jets.

Preston was apparently a member of an organization called The Minutemen, the intent there being ‘ready to help in a minute’s notice.’. He was  _ so _ relieved when I offered to help him, but I told him I wasn’t about to just leave those folks in there to deal with another wave of raiders. I might make my kid eat veggies someday, but other than that I’m no monster. One of the settlers, a man named Sturges - who had awesome hair, by the way - told me there was a suit of power armor up on the roof. Not just that, but… there was a  _ minigun.  _ Radioactive tarantulas beware! I think my excited trill spooked the group a little, but that’s ok. They’ll understand when the arachnids attack.

“Be back in a jiffy!” I hollered before heading up the stairs. Sure enough, on the roof there was a big ol’ suit of power armor. I clapped gleefully and clambered in. The minigun was still mounted to the vertibird, but it came off easily with the strength in those pneumatic arms. Raiders had begun to flood the area again right about then, so I put the minigun to work. It was a lot more useful than the little pea shooters on my hips. I was making short work of the raiders in good time. Who doesn’t love a glowing red ring of gatling barrels? 

Over the sound of bullets ricocheting off my suit, I heard another sound. There was an ungodly roar as my mother in law climbed out of the sewer grate just ahead. 

Well, okay, maybe not her exactly. But it was about two glasses of wine and a Thanksgiving dinner away from being a dead ringer for her. I don’t think the ferocity was equal, though. MIL was definitely scarier.

I’m talking shit. Obviously seeing that fucking thing coming out of the grate about sent me screaming for the hills. It was terrifying, and damn ugly. Giant cockroaches, I can deal with. Raiders thinking this is some kind of thunderdome, okay, I can deal with that. Mutant lizard crocodile dinosaurs with horns? Nope. Nope nope nope.

I didn’t really have an option as to whether or not I was going to fight it, because that thing saw me and came after me like a pissed off rhino. Ever seen a rhino stampede towards someone? Your average white rhino weighs 5100 lbs. If I had something to compare this bad boy to, I’d say the mass was similar. Except rhinos eat grass and from the looks of it, this dude was out to eat  _ me.  _ Oh, hell. The minigun spun up and I sprayed the oncoming nightmare demon with a hail of bullets. The average M134 minigun shoots anywhere from 2000-6000 rounds per minute. Let’s be optimistic and say this 200 year old rifle is firing around… 4000 per minute. So, in the roughly 15 seconds it took the creature to race up the street to me, 1000 rounds flew at it. If we’re being optimistic here, extra optimistic, we’ll say 50% of those hit the mark. As fun as full autos are, you lose a lot of accuracy when you’re spraying rounds willy nilly from a series of hot, hot barrels.

So, at around 500 optimistic rounds in, it finally dropped - a tumble of scaly hide and claws. I had never seen anything like it. The hide was riddled with holes, oozing a thick, dark liquid. Talk about tough. I’d put enough bullets in that thing to stop just about any other living creature in a second.

When I returned to Preston, he tried to give me money. He said the Minutemen always paid their debts. I told him no way, I wasn’t doing it for the money, and that was that. With the pressing matter of imminent death laid to rest, we chatted a little. He told me they’d been through a hell of a battle in Quincy and had fled to Concord looking for a safer place to stay. I told him about how I was from the vault, and looking for my son. 

The older woman in the group. Mama Murphy, piped in then. She told me my son was here, in the Commonwealth. She said she could  _ feel  _ his energy. I was pretty sure she was nuttier than a squirrel turd in an almond orchard at that, but I tried to be polite and went along with it. She did tell me I should go to Diamond City, and I’d find some help there. Apparently Diamond City was the happening place, so it made sense. They had to have more resources than a picked-over band of settlers. 

Preston asked me if I wanted to join them for the trip to the place Mama Murphy had seen. A place called Sanctuary. I just smiled and said yes. Why not go along for the ride? I already lived there. Sort of. I couldn’t face setting foot in my own house, but there were plenty to choose from now. At least I’d have company.

I fished a couple weapon improvements off the dead raiders scattering Concord. They weren’t going to need them anymore, poor sods, and I was likely going to very much need them if there were more mother-in-laws around. Preston called it a ‘Deathclaw’, so I guess I have to call it that instead. Nate hated when I’d talk about his mother like that, even if I wasn’t wrong and he knew it.

_ Oh, Nate. I’d have to find the courage at some point to pull you out of that vault and give you a proper burial.  _ That pain again, an agonizing constriction of the heart. I really didn’t feel any difference between the heartache of grief and the shallow groove across my left arm, slowly seeping blood down my sleeve. They hurt the same. Preston saw my pained look, the way my body was slumped.

“Are you doing ok? That was a lot back there.”

I turned to look at him, surprised at the inquiry but grateful for it. Humanity could be a really wonderful balm sometimes.

“I’m just… thinking about my husband. I need to arrange a proper… goodbye. I had to leave him behind. I wasn’t strong enough to get him out of there on my own.”

“I know we just met,” Preston said kindly, in reply. “But I owe you for your help. If you need help taking care of things, you let me know and I will be there. Whatever you need.”

In that moment, I thought he was just about the nicest person I’d ever met. I felt a little ashamed at even needing help, but I didn’t know how I was going to get Nate moved without an extra set of hands.

“Are you sure? I hate even asking.”

“Yeah, of course, Penny. Somehow I think if our roles were reversed, you’d do the same for me.”

We walked on in silence after that, until the old bridge came into sight, and beyond that… Sanctuary.

-

  
  


We went back for Nate the next day, once we had gotten everyone settled in. Climbing the hill up to the vault again, it was hard not to remember the last time I’d made this climb. Everyone screaming, panicking, their most cherished possessions scattered on the ground as overburdened suitcases gave way or overburdened arms caved. The blind panic setting in as the alarm was raised. Soldiers ushering us up the hill, get to the gate, get to the vault,  _ go go go. _ Knowing they might not make it and still coordinating the evac. Brave men, the sort I’d served with. Unflappable in the face of the end of the world.

As the lift took us down into the vault, Preston looked around the elevator shaft in awe.

“I’ve heard about these places...But I’ve never been in one.” 

“I don’t imagine many get the chance,” I answered wryly. “I guess you could consider me lucky.” 

“I wouldn’t call what you were left with lucky,” was his soft reply.

My eyes stung at his words. I taped up another little box and stuffed it under the bed with the rest. It was getting real full under there, but there was no way I could do what I must do next if I didn’t jam it all down deep. 

I found our old pod easily. I just followed the trail of dead roaches and footprints in the thick film of dust coating the floor. The room where our pods were was covered in water - the defrost from my pod, and from… Oh, hell. From Nate’s. And Nate himself. There he was, slumped in his pod where they had left him. Preston followed my gaze to the body, and whispered,

“Oh, is that… I’ll give you a moment.” He retreated from the room, leaving me with what was left of my heart.

I approached the pod, sucking my breath in and holding it, willing myself not to hyperventilate. Reaching a tentative hand out, I caressed Nate’s face. His skin was still cool to the touch. There was no keeping it together, then. Tears welled in my eyes, falling down my cheeks, splashing onto my flannel shirt. It was all I could do to hold back the worst of it, to keep a grip on myself and not dissolve into a babbling mess. I had to keep it together, I had to do this for him. I would not leave him in this place another minute. On his left hand, his wedding band gleamed dully in the light. Gently, I prised it from his finger and slid it onto my own. Then, I reached up and gently closed his eyes.

“I’ll find the people that did this do us,” I promised.

A sound behind me. Preston, returning. He’d found one of the carts used to transport crates and luggage through the vault. Carefully, the two of us lowered Nate’s body onto it. The tears continued to flow from my eyes silently, but Preston did not press or comment. Once we had Nate situated, we made the journey back to the surface.

We buried him in what had once been my backyard. I had nothing for a marker, but that would come later. The important part was done. When we were finished filling the grave, we stood beside the mound of freshly turned dirt, silent.

“Do you want to say a few words?” Preston’s deep, dark eyes were full of compassion.

I shook my head. “I… can’t. Not yet. God help me, Preston, I’m so weak.” 

He pulled me into a hug, then, and I let him. Under normal circumstances, I’m actually a pretty huggy person. In this instance, I really needed it. Desperately. I almost did feel lucky. I’d been on the surface just a few days and I’d somehow found someone like Preston when I needed him most.

I think standing there, wrapped up in a tight hug, my hands covered in dirt… was the moment Preston and I became friends. The kind of friends who would die for each other if necessary.

  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Penny**

When I was in the service, someone coined the nickname ‘Penny Dreadful’ for me, and it stuck. It wasn’t for any reason that was particularly cool or awesome. It was honestly just a play on my name and my abysmal cooking skills. I had taken it upon myself to try and bake something. It was around Christmas time, and I decided to try my hand at making some tree-shaped sugar cookies. I was pretty proud of myself. They weren’t too terrible looking, and the green sprinkles helped cover up any lumps. It wasn’t until one of my shipmates tried one, and began coughing and choking that I began to doubt myself.

“Holy shit, Penny,” he’d said, spitting out the mouthful of cookie and coughing violently. “These are _dreadful.”_ Someone had laughed in the background at that, and gleefully yelled,

“Penny Dreadful and the Killer Cookies!” 

I never baked again, and the name stuck. It turns out I’d grabbed salt instead of sugar, and forgotten the baking powder. After that, any time I fucked something up, it was _Penny Dreadful is at it again_ followed by a bunch of chortling. I wasn’t offended, in fact I kind of dug it and embraced the name. It was unique to me and assigned with good natured ribbing. I liked it so much, in fact, the next time we had shore leave I popped into a tattoo parlor… one of the shady little places with neon lights in the window and open 24 hours… and got the name tattooed across my clavicle. Holy hell, that hurt something fierce.

The name kind of added an almost satirical theme to everything I did. It was like my daily actions became a penny novel. Penny Dreadful Mows the Lawn. Penny Dreadful and the Runaway Corvega. Penny Dreadful and The Really Handsome Guy Across the Bar. Obviously, that last edition was Nate. Nate was the kind of handsome that was once in a lifetime. Floor-drops-out-from-beneath you good lookin’. Usually when someone looks like that, I run the other way. I’ve got trust issues with gorgeous men who know they’re gorgeous, but I was somehow glued to the spot under that gaze.

He was tall, lean, with wide shoulders and olive skin that complimented his dark hair. As he approached me, smiling, I noted the two deep dimples on either cheek. Oh, hell. I downed the rest of my vodka tonic in a panic, swallowed wrong, and was choking and sputtering elegantly as he slid onto the stool beside me. I wasn’t sure if my face was flaming red from the choking or his observing me in my natural state, but he waited patiently until I had reigned in my sputtering before he opened his mouth.

“So the drinks here are that good, huh?” was his opening line. 

“Oh, yeah, the absolute best. Mickey really knows how to pour the choking hazards.” 

He laughed, the dimples deepening. His voice was deep, rich. A voice for radio and a face for cologne ads. 

“Can I buy you another?” 

“The first one didn’t kill me, so you want another shot?” 

“Don’t worry, I know CPR.” He leaned forward, resting his face on his hand. The smile widened even more, showing a row of perfect teeth.

“We aren’t even one date in and you’re already offering mouth to mouth?”

“Okay, fine. We will go on our first date, and _then_ I’ll offer mouth to mouth.” 

And that is how we ended up at a diner at 2 in the morning, eating some surprisingly awesome pie and discovering we had a crazy amount of things in common. He was also pretty far from being some kind of alpha god. He was in truth an overgrown farm boy with a heart the size of Texas, and ears that were a little too big for his head. The connection was immediate and unlike anything either of us had ever experienced. 

He _did_ end up giving me mouth to mouth later, so I guess I am a sucker for tall awkward men with killer game.

It’s a confusing feeling - having so much pain wrapped up and twisted amongst something that once gave you such effusive joy. It’s like looking at a sunny park through some really dark shades. You can’t see the light for all the darkness clouding it. I had all these memories in my brain that only hurt me to look into. Everything I had planned on was buried under 6 feet of dirt now, or lost somewhere out there in the commonwealth. When the pain of losing everything becomes too much to handle, you have to busy yourself. It’s the only way you keep your wits about you. You stay busy, until the ache lessens and your vision clears.

Diamond City was a ways out, and I had a group of people before me that needed my help. I decided to bide my time, and assist Preston the best I could before I dug into that whole mess again. 

It started with a group of settlers needing my help clearing out some raiders that were harassing them. Then the to-do list grew. A settlement of ghouls - apparently there were ghouls that weren’t the scary eat-your-face variety - being repeatedly attacked by super mutants. Traders being robbed on the road. A woman’s sister kidnapped and held for ransom. Before I knew it, I was so busy traipsing all over the commonwealth helping people I didn’t have a second to breathe, or think, or remember all the things that hurt. I adjusted to the new environment quickly. There was a lot to see, and my introduction to most of the fauna of the commonwealth was a rude awakening. I’d never expected in my life to see big green dudes spit roasting a dead raider, for example. That was pretty fucking horrifying.

Helping Preston rebuild the Minutemen gave me purpose. Hell, I’d spent the better half of my life at this point fixing things. It was what I knew, what I was best at. Sure, it wasn’t replacing a broken axle or doing a full systems check on one of the birds, but it was similar in the feeling. I was taking broken things and mending them... while I postponed mending myself.

That’s how I came about meeting Paladin Danse. I had just finished clearing out a water processing facility for a group - flock? Gaggle? - of robots running a greenhouse, when my pip boy picked up a distress signal. Tuning into the frequency, I picked up a lot of gunfire and someone requesting fire support. Well, I was in the neighborhood, I had a shiny new rifle slung over my shoulder, and a little time to spare. 

There were a lot of ghouls. I mean a lot. And they weren’t the nice kind either, no tarberry farmers here. Just a bunch of nasty, flailing, crunchy-skinned crawlies flinging themselves at a gentleman in a power suit standing on the steps of an old police HQ. He was mowing them down with some impressive laser fire, but I pitched in - opting for higher ground on the scaffolding they’d build around the place. I wasn’t wearing any fancy suit, and I wasn’t in the mood to be anything’s lunch today. Dogmeat was probably the best combat buddy anyone could ask for. He leaped around having the time of his life, hamstringing ghouls for me to finish off, darting about under their legs, tongue lolling happily. 

Once the dust settled, I climbed down from my position and walked to the center of the yard. The man in the suit pulled off his helmet, and I got a good look at him. It was a little hard on me, if I’m being honest. There were a lot of similarities between him and someone I had just buried. Olive-hued skin, dark hair, a masculine jawline. The eyes were different, though. Deep brown instead of silvery blue. I felt my heart sink a little as I looked at him, but kept my cool. He surveyed the pile of ghouls around us and then turned his gaze on me.

“I appreciate the assist, citizen, but who are you and what are you doing here?” 

I tilted my head back to look at him. “Well, this _citizen_ heard you boys crying for help and came running.” I tapped my pip boy’s screen. “And before I go telling you who I am, how about you tell me who you are.”

His brow darkened. “In due time. If you want to remain in our compound, I suggest you answer my questions first.” 

His voice was commanding, unused to being questioned. It was then I finally noticed the insignia on his power suit, an insignia matching that of the others behind him. Hmmm. Military, then. Or something like it. Whatever version of it was left in this world, maybe? I wasn’t fond of his bossy britches tone. He wasn’t _my_ C.O. 

“Hi, I’m Penny. I’m fresh out of Vault 111, still got the new car smell, and I am apparently on pest patrol duty today.”

His eyes were disapproving of me, but he seemed to relax at that. “I see. I apologize if I seem suspicious. Our mission here has been fraught with difficulties. Since the moment we arrived here, we’ve been constantly under fire.”

“You and me both, amigo,” I replied. “The welcoming committee out here is pretty bumpy.”

“If you want to continue pitching in,” he went on, “We could use an extra gun on our side. You seem to know your way around a weapon.” 

“If you want fire support, I’m gonna need to know a little more about you.” Preston said to help people and all, but I didn’t know who these guys were. For all I knew they could be an organization of cannibals sent to devour the commonwealth.

He inclined his head at that. “Fair enough. I suppose you’ve earned an answer. I am Paladin Danse, of the Brotherhood of Steel. That is Scribe Haylen, and Knight Rhys,” he gestured at the aforementioned. “We’re on recon duty, but I’m down a man and our supplies are running low. We have been unable to send a distress call back to my superiors. Our signal is too weak out here to reach them.”

“Sir, if I may?” Scribe Haylen spoke up. She was a petite, pretty woman even with all the gear on. “I’ve modified the radio tower on the roof of the police station, but I’m afraid it just isn’t enough. What we need is something that will boost the signal.” 

“Our target is ArcJet Systems,” Danse explained to me. “It contains the technology we need. A Deep Range Transmitter. That is where you come in. You and I infiltrate the facility, secure the tech, and bring it back here.” 

“Who is the Brotherhood of Steel? I’m new here, remember,” I queried. I wasn’t moving a foot until I knew these folks were on the up and up. 

“Our order seeks to understand the nature of technology. It’s power. It’s meaning to us as humans. We fight to secure that power from those who would abuse it.”

“Uh huh. So like the people that blew our world to kingdom come, then.”

“The very same,” he nodded. “Before the Great War, science and technology became more of a burden than a benefit. The atom bomb, bio-engineered plagues, FEV… All clear examples of the horrors that technological advancement had wrought.”

He wasn’t wrong. The nuclear renaissance, as some called it, was full of a lot of good and bad. It made a lot of things easier, having that kind of technology readily available. But if you gave every kid on the playground a cannon, it wasn’t exactly a fistfight resulting in nosebleeds anymore. Everyone had a cannon, everyone had the power to use it, and everyone had a stake in the game.

“I suppose I can understand that,” I answered. “I saw some of that during the war. Before my time in the Navy ended. Kinda the inevitable fate of man, I think. Absolute power corrupts.” 

“During the war?” His head cocked to one side.

“Right. Remember how I said I came from vault 111? They tricked us, froze us as part of an experiment. I’ve been on ice for the last 200 years.”

His eyes glittered with conviction at that, and he nodded. “That is exactly what I am talking about. Technology used for ill. They used it on unwitting human subjects.” 

I considered things for a moment. They seemed alright. I could even understand the whole technology-is-bad bit. Especially considering what I’d heard about the mysterious Institute snatching people from their beds. 

“Alright, Danse. I’ll come along with you to ArcJet. But only if you give me one of those sweet power suits.”

His face was impassive stone.

“Fine, fine, no suit. Let’s go, then. Pack it up, buttercup.”

  
  
  


-

**Danse**

  
  


This vault dweller, this… Penny. She was grossly unprofessional and flippant. For someone who claimed to have served a greater cause, she was far from what I would expect. I knew a little about the history of the United States. I knew that their military was similar to the structure of the Brotherhood’s, though they got far more into detail on the various classes and ranks. Either way, they were sworn to protect their country and their people. A noble mission I could understand.

When Penny came bursting into our compound, gun blazing, I was at first concerned she was after us. When I realized she was after the same targets I was, I focused on the fight before me. I would deal with the errant citizen after the threat to myself and my team was eliminated. After, when she climbed down from her perch overlooking the compound, I carefully looked her over. She was tall, maybe 5’9”. Her hair hung to her hips, gleaming and copper. Much like her namesake, I would find out in a moment. She was fair-skinned, freckled, with vibrant green eyes and a full mouth that seemed permanently quirked up in amusement. She was, in truth, beautiful. Something I willed myself not to notice. She had the air of someone who never took anything seriously, which immediately got my hackles up.

She had two guns on her hips, and a 5.56 semi automatic rifle in her hands. She looked comfortable with them, at ease. The way she strode over to me was languid and a little cocky. She wore a pair of snug jeans, combat boots, a flannel shirt, and a combat vest. I wondered if she was the help we needed in finishing our mission here in the Commonwealth, but first I needed to establish her intent and her origins. If she was a synth or a sympathizer, we could have another shootout on our hands.

She was, as I feared she would be, cocky and flippant. She dodged my questions, but once we got to truly speaking, I found her to be intelligent and observant. She was definitely someone I could use on my mission, and I proposed she assist me in retrieving the Deep Range Transmitter. She danced around me for a minute, trying to feel out what sort of organization we were. I explained as succinctly as I could the gist of our creed, our ultimate mission, and she seemed to accept it if not warm to it. 

After agreeing to assist, she turned on her heel after calling me… _Buttercup_ … and didn’t see me brindle with irritation. _Buttercup?_ Like the child’s toy? I had a feeling I would soon regret my decision to ask her along.

Despite my initial concerns, Penny proved me wrong. She was a more than capable soldier, and watching her dodge, spin, and dive while in close quarters with a dozen synths was fascinating. Where my power suit made me solid, heavy, unbreakable - she used speed and her surroundings to compensate under heavy fire. There was an elegance and a grace to her movements, and I found myself watching her instead of watching my targets. That’s one way to get killed, I thought, frowning inside my helmet and shaking a synth off my leg. The legs had been blown off by a grenade and it was trying to claw its way up my armor. 

There was a fire to her that matched her hair. She was untempered metal, needing the cooling touch of water and for a hammer to work out the imperfections. She would make an excellent soldier, just the sort we needed in this blasted commonwealth… and if we made it out of ArcJet… I was going to propose she join the faction, as a Knight. An image of her in a sleek Brotherhood jumpsuit entered my thoughts, unbidden, and I shoved it away, feeling somewhat mortified at myself for even thinking of it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Penny**

**  
  
**

“You have been at this for hours,” Preston chided, walking up to the side of me so as not to startle me. “The tin cans can wait, the stew is going to get cold.”

I had spent hours that day practicing my speed draw. I was determined to hone my skills to rival the gunslingers of the old west, and rob a stagecoach from horseback.

You got me. I was working hard at distracting myself. I had come back from my trip to Diamond City feeling pretty down in the dumps. I hadn’t found my son, but I had found my husband’s killer. You always think revenge will be gratifying. That the culmination of rage and heartache twisting in your gut will find release, and you’ll be able to feel like you used to. I had turned the idea over and over in my mind, like holding a gem in my hand and inspecting it. In reality, I found no satisfaction in taking Kellog’s life. It felt more like putting down a rabid animal. He might be a professional killer, but I wasn’t. 

He had tried to kill me in the end. One final struggle. While Nick fought the syths accompanying Kellog, I went for the man himself. The wrestling match over my shotgun ended with my ears ringing and Kellog’s face a ruin. When it was at last done and I stood over him, covered in both my blood and his, I felt only a sense of loss. Like I had killed my only chance of ever seeing my son again. Examining the pulp I’d made of him, and grimacing, I found a few cybernetic implants that could be of use. They were clearly Institute tech, and who knew what secrets they might hold.

My intuition proved to be useful, for once. At Nick’s suggestion, we went to see Dr Amari at the Memory Den in Goodneighbor. The implant in Kellog’s brain held the memories we needed to discover the secret of making it into the Institute. 

Since returning from the trip, I’d been brooding and shooting innocent tin cans. My foray into Kellog’s mind had been worrying. I’d watched his journey from tough-guy to cold blooded murderer. I’d had to watch him kill Nate all over again. And then I’d seen my son… and the child before me, the child in Kellog’s memories, was not a baby. He was a boy of ten. That part… that was the hardest. I had thought I was looking for my baby, but more time had passed than I’d realized. It had been ten _years._ I’d missed everything. I’d missed my son’s most important years. He’d grown up without his father _and_ without me.

**  
  
**

Preston was right. I’d been out here far too long, and my poor fair skin was a lovely shade of crimson everywhere the sun had bathed it.

“Fine, ok, mom, I’m coming.” I holstered my twin .44 magnums and fell into step with Preston, dragging my feet dramatically.

“I actually have something for you,” he said. “Before we eat.” 

“Preston. You know I _love_ presents.”

He smiled at me, before turning into the drive of the house he’d claimed. He was gone in the house for a minute, and I fidgeted, waiting. Eventually he came back out, holding something large and square, wrapped in cloth. He set it down on the workbench under the carport and motioned me over.

Curious, I wandered over next to him. 

“I know this was important to you,” he said gently. I felt my heart twinge. I reached down, carefully pulling the twine loose, and folded back the folds of fabric.

It was a stone tablet, and it read: ‘Nate Cohen, 2047 - 2077. Husband, father, best friend.’

“Preston,” I croaked, running my fingers over the cool and smooth surface of the stone. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” he said by way of apology. “I had it commissioned via a trader going to Diamond City. He promised to bring it back with him on his next trip out here. I hope it’s okay.” 

When I looked up at him, tears were glimmering in my eyes. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

I was stunned at the gesture. Preston had gone through loss of his own. When the rest of the Minutemen had been slain by Gunners, he had barely escaped with his life. The people who had been his friends and family since 17 had fallen all around him, betrayed by one of their own. I couldn’t begin to fathom how he had felt. Despite going through all that, he had taken the time to ensure I could lay my husband to rest properly. 

“Preston,” I whispered, struggling to control my voice. “You’re a really damn good egg. You know that?” 

“So are you,” was his simple reply. I threw my arms around him and gave him a squeeze that whooshed the breath out of him. I told you, I’m a hugger, and Preston’s sweet soul just kind of brought it out in me more than usual.

I skipped dinner. There was no way I could eat now. All I wanted was to take the headstone to Nate’s grave, place it, and finally speak the words that would seal the chapter I’d been struggling to close.

As I knelt on the warm earth, hollowing out a spot for the stone, I heard a voice coming over a loudspeaker above me. A massive shadow cast over Sanctuary, as an enormous airship blotted out the sun. The Brotherhood was announcing its arrival to the Commonwealth. So, my new pal Danse had managed to call home. _Boy, I hope they’re the good guys._

Later that night, as I lay in my bunk dreading dreamland, my pip boy chirped as it picked up a new frequency. I scrolled through the list of signals, intrigued. It was the Brotherhood, announcing all troops were being recalled for an address. I was to report back to Cambridge. I asked myself if I cared. How seriously did I want to take this thing? Part of me felt obligated to help Danse. I’d seen how ferocious and passionate he was about his Brotherhood’s cause. I also really hated elite clubs and wasn’t sure I wanted to be in one again. I liked the Minutemen. They were good people with a stake in things. The Brotherhood seemed a little.. Hmm, what’s the phrase I am looking for. Tone deaf. They seemed far more focused on the Institute and not too concerned about helping the people of the commonwealth survive the day-to-day.

I’d go. If only to see Danse again. He intrigued me and I rather enjoyed pissing him off. Military types were always so stiff, like they had a board glued to their backs. He was easily ruffled, and he was cute when he got flustered. A wave of guilt at the thought. I had just placed my husband’s tomb stone, for fuck’s sake.

I turned on my side and willed myself to sleep.

**  
  
**

-

**Danse**

**  
  
**

Most nights, I sleep like the dead. On rare occasions, I dream. Vague memories of sifting through rubble searching for items of worth. Hiding from the roaming bands of raiders. Fighting for my life. The endless plains stretching out before me, rippling mirages on the horizon. Memories that had soft shapes, but no tangible edges to grab. Just… the old feelings of hunger, anger, loneliness. Ever-shifting and diaphanous in the shadowed corners of my subconscious. 

I wouldn’t call them nightmares. That isn’t what they were. It felt more like chasing things that weren’t there. Running after ghosts before they walked through walls. 

For weeks, I’d dreamed of something else. _A ballerina, alone on a stage. Muscles taut as she spins, leaps, twists, bows. A halo of light framing her face, shining like hammered copper in the sun. There is no music to dance to but the sound of my heart, beating loudly in my own ears. I watch as she reaches her arms up to the sky, grasping and graceful fingers reaching for something unattainable, before she falls back to the earth, body slumped, ribcage expanding with emotion._

__

_It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and when I wake, my heart still hammers in my ears to the rhythm of her delicate footfalls in the silent theater._

I wondered if she would answer the summons to return to Cambridge. Lately I have found myself pacing, agitated, wishing I had a better vantage point. She could slip through the streets of Cambridge and I wouldn’t see her coming. Haylen and Rhys have noticed my agitation, and assume it is due to the Brotherhood finally arriving in the commonwealth. Seeing the Prydwen sail gracefully overhead, hearing the call of my brothers, the hum of vertibird rotors as they escorted the vessel to her mooring… It made up for the weeks of being stuck in this damn place. We stood in the center of the compound, watching as they passed over us. We had been in radio contact since they left the Capital Waste to bring aid to the commonwealth. It was time we began our war against the Institute in earnest.

Would Penny join us? Did she hear the call to serve as I did? She seemed to be the sort of person who helped _anyone_ in need. I had my concerns about that, but didn’t know her well enough to pry into her thoughts just yet.

There was no sign of her the first day after the Brotherhood’s arrival. Or the second day. Or the third day. In fact, four days passed before she appeared - scaring the daylights out of our knights on watch duty as she slipped through the entrance, entirely unseen until that moment. There was a rad storm raging overhead, and visibility was bad. The ruckus interrupted me as I was writing up a report on the day’s activity and encounter with a handful of raiders, and I rushed out into the yard to find a figure in a gas mask, hands in the air, laughing while three knights trained their laser rifles on her. I recognized the laugh, the flannel shirt and combat vest, the tattered jeans and boots. 

“Did someone order a pizza?” she was saying, hands still up. “Woah, woah, it’s me. I’m going to take this thing off, ok?” She reached behind her head slowly, freeing the buckle and pulling the mask from her head. There she was, russet mane whipping in the wind and tangling about her, still laughing. “You fellas are wound up real tight around here.”

She looked up at the green sky, frowned. “So can I come in or does a girl have to crisp until well done?” 

“You’re late reporting in, solider,” I found myself admonishing her. _I’ve been wondering if you were alive or dead you ungrateful ass._

“Dock my pay, I guess,” she smirked. 

“That is hardly the way to speak to a superior officer.” I felt heat warming my ears.

“Look, tin man, I have a good reason for why it took me so long. And if you’d like to chat about it, let me in and we can cozy up in your office and I’ll lay it all out for you.”

The phrasing made me swallow hard. “We’ll talk inside.” I kept my voice tightly controlled and slammed my way back through the doors, the hinges complaining at the abuse.

She sauntered into the department behind me, looking nonchalant. I marched to the back, into an old office I’d claimed as mine when we established the post. Once inside, I turned on her.

“Soldier, you insist on speaking to me in a way that is unbecoming of a member of the Brotherhood, and absolutely unacceptable to a superior officer. When I address you, I expect you to give me the respect due.” 

“Danse,” she said, flopping down in my rickety desk chair. “I like you. And _because_ I like you, I am here. I joined because I’m interested in your organization, and I want to know more about it. Maybe help you guys out. But make no mistake, if you want someone to push around and follow orders, you picked the wrong girl. I did my time, and it’s in the past now. I am nobody’s tool.”

She put her feet up on my desk. “Now, either kick me out, or ask me why I was late.”

“Very well, Initiate, I’ll play your game. Why were you late?”

“Why Danse, I’m glad you asked.” She threw her backpack onto my desk, next to her muddy boots.

“And what is that?”

“Your missing patrol.” Her green eyes blazed up at me, daring me to chastise her. I just stared at the bag for a moment, before picking it up and unzipping it. The bag held three distress beacons, all switched off now. There were holotags, holotapes, a couple other personal effects.

“Ah,” I said. “You found them, then.” my voice came out a little thicker than I meant for it to, but I was holding the memories of three fine soldiers, all dead. My fist closed around the bundle of holotags. “The Brotherhood will honor their sacrifice.”

“There’s more,” she said. The recalcitrant tone gone from her voice now. It was softer. “I found your Paladin Brandis. He’s been holed up in a bunker, their fallback point, for the last three years.”

“Brandis was alive?”

“Yes. A bit crazy, a bit lonely, but alive. Once I talked him out of shooting me, we had a good talk. I convinced him to rejoin your Brotherhood. He should be in touch with... Well, whoever coordinates that stuff.”

“You were late because you were out there looking for them.” I felt stupid voicing the words. 

“Yes, Danse. You asked me if I’d look into it, and I told you I would. It took me a little while to get to it. I had matters of my own to take care of.” her eyes darkened at that, and I saw a flicker of great sorrow in those emerald depths. I wanted to know everything, but I held my tongue. If she’d wanted me to know, she’d have told me about it.

“I apologize for my harsh tone with you.” I felt uncomfortable. Apologies weren’t something I often handed out, but I had been a jerk in front of the others. I had been in the wrong, too focused on my ego and propriety. 

“It’s fine. It’s done, so let’s move on from it.” She took her feet off the desk. “I would say let’s head out to the Prydwen, but there’s a rad storm raging outside and I somehow doubt any of the pilots are willing to fly in that.”

“Yes, we will have to wait for it to blow over. We have extra bedrolls. Speak with Haylen. She can get you situated for the night.”

“I’ll do that.” she stood, brushed herself off, and walked to the door. She paused there, clearly wanting to say more.

“Something on your mind, soldier?”

“You’re kind of a dick, Danse. But I missed you anyway.” She slipped out the door and left me standing there, still holding the holotags, my mouth open.

**  
  
**

**-**

**Penny**

**  
  
  
**

I hadn’t been in the air since my life before, and the vertibird ride was exhilarating. The wind whipped my hair around me as I perched on the edge, feet braced, firing down on super mutants with the minigun. Danse was waxing poetic about the Brotherhood’s strength and taking down the Institute again. He was such a Brotherhood choir boy, my god. I was far more focused on the good time I was having. Almost made me wish I’d signed up for the Airforce when I’d served. They got to have all the fun, apparently.

We approached the looming bulk of the Prydwen. I was impressed by the size of it. It was like a small town. Guess it had to be, to house the entirety of the Brotherhood in it. The vertibird docked, shaking slightly as a clamp locked into place. Danse dismounted first, and I followed suit. I was introduced to Captain Kells, who looked me up and down and said,

“You’re certainly not what I expected.”

“I get that a lot. Must be the staggering good looks.”

Kells was distinctly not amused, and I saw Danse close his eyes in horror for a moment. Ha. Good. 

“I field-promoted her to initiate,” Danse said, interrupting the uncomfortable impasse. “I plan to sponsor her personally.”

“...Yes, we read your reports,” Kell answered, turning his wary gaze from me to Danse. “You’ll be pleased to know Elder Maxson has approved your request. He is placing the recruit in your charge.”

“Thank you, sir,” Danse saluted - his fist to his chest. “And my current orders?”

“You are to remain on the Prydwen and await further instructions.”

“Understood. Ad Victoriam.” and with that, Danse left me standing there with Kells.

“So, you’re the one Danse took under his wing. You don’t look much like a soldier to me.”

“I shaved my beard off this morning. Sorry about that.”

His brows creased in irritation. “I hope you take your duties more seriously than you are this conversation, recruit. I’ve read Danse’s report. For whatever reason, he seems to think you will make a fine addition to our ranks. Since he has never led us astray before, I am going to give you the benefit of the doubt and trust his judgement on this. However, if you do _anything_ to jeopardize our mission in the commonwealth… It will not be tolerated. Is that understood?”

I shrugged. “Understood.”

“Good. Your orders are to proceed to the command deck for Maxson’s address. After which, Elder Maxson wishes to have a word with you.”

I nodded, gave a half-mocking salute, and followed after Danse. I was starting to wonder if I’d gotten myself into more than I wanted to deal with. I preferred to think of myself as a… consultant. These folks clearly wanted me to dance to their tune, and I wasn’t about to entertain that notion. I figured this would probably end with me being tossed off the Prydwen - and I mean literally - for insubordination. 

Maxson was kind of what I expected. Tall, authoritative, big beard, lots of grandstanding and heartfelt sentiments. He did refer to the Institute as a ‘malignant growth,’ and I was inclined to agree with him on that. What was the old saying? _The enemy of my enemy is my friend?_ That seemed to fit here. While I wasn’t sure I shared all their ideals - they were pretty unsympathetic to the plight of anything save true humans - they were a force to be reckoned with. One I hoped would be invaluable in finding my son again.

“...Therefore, the institute and their synths are enemies of the brotherhood… and they should be dealt with swiftly and without mercy,” Maxson was saying now. Hoo boy, ok, that was a bit much. It was getting a little intolerant in here. I thought of Nick, living with the memories of a long-dead cop and struggling to find his individuality amidst the behaviors, thoughts, and emotions that weren’t entirely his. The Brotherhood would see him and all like him destroyed. That definitely didn’t sit right with me. Super mutants, I could understand. There was no helping them and they were a serious danger. But there was no reason a synth couldn’t live out a peaceful life. From what I’d seen of them, they felt and experienced everything an organically born human could. They slept, dreamed, ate, cried, experienced love, bled when hurt. How was that different from us, again?

At this point I felt like I’d grabbed the south end of a real pissed off snake; I kind of wanted to set it back down again, but if I did I was afraid it would bite me, too. The logical thing to do would be to ride this out as far as I could, and maybe down the road I could use my position to save some lives from this grasping goon. Knowledge is power and all that jazz. I was going to have to keep my guard up around these people… And Danse, until I knew what sort of man he truly was.

After the address, when all the others had been dismissed, Maxson turned and leaned on the deck railing - looking out at the commonwealth through the filthy observation windows. I waited, twirling a lock of my hair. At last he spoke.

“I care about them, you know. The people of the Commonwealth.” 

“You sure know how to make a rousing speech, that’s certain,” I replied carefully. _Don’t let the snake bite you, Penny._

“I just hope we made it here in time.” He turned from the window and surveyed me. “I refuse to allow the mistakes of the past to be repeated.”

“Where do I fit into all this?”

“I want you to take responsibility. To help us start making a real difference here. From what I have read in Paladin Danse’s report, you’ve already begun that journey. Seeing as how he is one of my most respected officers, his recommendation is the highest you could get. Therefore, from this moment forward, I’m granting you the rank of Knight. And,” he added, “Befitting your title, we’re granting you a suit of power armor to protect you on the field of battle. Wear it with pride.”

_Field of battle. Right. The battle against unarmed synths and other... unsavories._

“Sweet, finally. I’ve been begging Danse for a suit since day one but he’s been very unaccommodating about it.” 

“I see,” said Maxson, an eyebrow raised. “In any event, once you are finished familiarizing yourself with the Prydwen and my staff, report to the flight deck for your new orders. Welcome aboard the Prydwen, soldier. Ad victoriam.” 

I found Danse in the mess hall, catching up with Paladin Brandis. It was nice to see the once-proud man cleaned up. His wild mane and beard had been trimmed up, and he looked vital and full of life again. After the hell he’d been through, it was heartening to see. Brandis’ eyes fell on me, and he reached out to clasp my hand. His handshake was solid, firm, and he looked me in the eyes.

“I can’t thank you enough for finding me. For giving me hope again.” The warmth in his tone soothed my nerves after that address and meeting Maxson. It was nice to see a friendly face. 

“No worries, Brandis. We all fall sometimes. It’s the getting back up that matters.” 

Behind Brandis, I caught Danse’s gaze. There was something like pride glowing in them, and it made me feel kind of good. A little less like a number or a rank and more like a person. A blush touched my cheeks and I turned my head, pretending to adjust a shoulder strap until it passed.

“Well, Brandis, it was good to see you. I am supposed to go get poked by the doctor now, so I’m off.” Brandis nodded and turned back to his meal. Danse followed me out.

“How did your meeting with Maxson go?” he asked. 

“He’s, ah, real impressive. Very intimidating.” 

“He is a great leader. I expect with him at the helm, our victory over the Institute will be swift and just.”

“Mm hmmm.” _Are you part of the snake, Danse? Will you bite, too?_

Knight-Captain Cade was a friendly, older man. I liked him right away. Perhaps it’s something most medical professionals have about them, but I had a feeling that I could trust him. Well, as much as you could trust a member of the Brotherhood.

He looked up when I walked in. “Ah, yes, our newest recruit. Are you ready for your physical?”

“I suppose so,” I said. I turned and looked at Danse, who muttered something about how he’d wait outside, and backpedaled out of the med bay in a surprisingly graceful but expedient fashion. 

  
  


-

**Danse**

I stood outside the door of the med bay, waiting patiently. I won’t lie and say I wasn’t curious about Penny’s answers to Cade’s inquiries. There was a part of me that felt guilty for eavesdropping, but I told myself it was out of concern for the security of my team. Right, Danse, sure that’s what it is.

“Have a seat in the chair, and I’ll draw some blood. We will run a full workup, check for anything of concern, that kind of thing.” Cade’s voice.

There was a rustling as Penny obliged.

“As a child, were you ever exposed to serious levels of radiation?” Cade asked as he worked. 

“I’m actually from… before the war. I grew up in a time before the bombs fell.” Penny’s voice, softer. Harder to hear.

“From _before_ the war? How is that possible?” Cade was surprised.

“My family and I were... frozen in a vault. Cryogenic stasis. I didn’t get out until recently.”

“And your family… are they in good health as well? No ill effects from the stasis?”

Her voice was so low I almost missed the words. “My husband is dead. He didn’t make it. The, uh, the Institute…” her words were strained, laden with emotion. “They killed him and took my son.”

Cade’s response was heavy with empathy and kindness. “Ah, damn. We have heard many reports of similar circumstances regarding the Institute. I am sorry. As a doctor, I will tell you to ensure you still take care of yourself. Grief is hard on the system. You need to do your best to eat regular meals, sleep as well as you can, avoid drugs and alcohol. As a man who has seen a lot of loss up close and personal, I will tell you that it gets better with time. It’s hard to see that sometimes, when you are living in it, but it will get easier.”

“Thanks, doc.” I’d never heard her so subdued.

“Have you ever come in close contact with a person carrying a communicable disease?” A tray clattering as he moved it around.

“No, never been really sick a day in my life other than the occasional cold or flu.”

“This next question can be a little uncomfortable, but I need you to answer honestly.” 

“Well with an opening line like that, I can’t wait to hear it.” Some color returning to Penny’s tone now.

“Have you ever had sexual relations with any species considered non-human?”

“Doctor Cade, the scandal!”

A sigh. “I know. But I have to ask it.”

“Well, doc, as far as I know even Marines are still considered human, so, no. I think we’re ok on that front.”

He chuckled. “You’d be surprised how many wastelanders answer ‘yes’ to that question.”

I heard his stool roll backwards, done with the blood draw.

“Last question. Would you have any problems pulling the trigger on an enemy of the Brotherhood, whether they’re human, formerly human, or machine?”

“I suppose that would depend on whether or not they deserved my wrath.”

“It’s a tough question, and one with many varied answers. Fair enough. Well, that about wraps things up. I see no reason to prevent you from beginning your duties immediately.” 

I started a little, and moved away from the door as silently as I could. I felt as though I’d invaded her privacy and didn’t want her disappointed in me.

She came through the doorway, saw me, and walked over.

“Well, that was relatively painless,” she said. “Cade’s a nice dude.” 

“He is an efficient member of the Brotherhood,” I agreed. She rolled her eyes.

“Well, let’s go. I suppose I have a few more people to acquaint myself with on this big bad balloon.” 

I followed her on her rounds through the ship, lost in my own thoughts. _‘I had matters of my own to take care of,’_ she’d told me. No doubt something to do with searching for the son who was taken from her. The pain in her voice when she’d told Cade about her husband… that seared through my soul in a way I couldn’t explain. I felt guilty, then, for being so abrupt with her thus far. I’d seen her as a soldier, an ally in the fight against the Institute, and hadn’t thought much on how jarring it must have been for her to wake up from a 200 year long sleep and find the world she’d known her entire life in ruin. 

She hadn’t only lost her life before, either. She’d lost everything she had brought with her save the clothes on her back. And despite it all, she had been out there helping the people of the commonwealth. Rebuilding the Minutemen, protecting any who needed it, and making a difference. She was a rare creature. Most people would have let hardship like that change them, and not likely for the better.

Something kindled in my chest as I watched her chat with Proctor Teagan animatedly. She was joking with him about spider cannons, and he was laughing. I guess I wasn’t the only one a little charmed by her. She was vibrant and magnetic, and I found myself gravitating to it against my better judgement.


	5. Chapter 5

“Do you ever climb down out of that armor?” I asked Danse, throwing another stone across the lake and watching it skip. “I’ve never seen you pee and I’m worried about you.”

“Of course I do. Leave the armor, that is.” His tone was mildly offended. 

“You should switch tactics sometime. Fast and light vs. human tank.” 

“The power suit offers superior protection against the elements and assault.” 

I patted the guns on my hips. “They can’t shoot at you if they’re dead first.” 

“I can’t shoot at them if _I’m_ dead first.”

“Come on Danse. Let’s have a little shooting contest. It will be fun.” 

He regarded me somewhat reproachfully, and then I heard him sigh, and the soft hiss of the release on his suit 

“I fail to see the point in this.” he disengaged from the suit and hopped down. He wore charcoal gray fatigues and a gray tee shirt. His holotags rested on his solid chest. He was a giant of a man, even without the power armor... Thick and powerfully built. _I’d hate to tangle with that in a fight_ , I thought.

“There _isn’t_ a point, that’s the point. It’s fun. Now, come on. See that half-sunken fishing boat out there?” I pointed across the water. He nodded. “First one to shoot the nest off the mast wins. Loser cooks dinner.” 

Poor Danse. He had no idea what was at stake… or the imminent peril he was in. I was looking forward to some nice pan-fried tatos and venison. 

He was looking at the boat, frowning in concentration, one hand over his eyes to shield it from the bright sun. “That’s got to be 800 yards,” guessed.

“Mmhmm, something like that.” I chambered a round in my combat rifle and hunkered down. “Medium-rare, please.”

He looked down at me. “Wha--”

The rifle kicked, but the shot missed. I looked through my scope again. Shit. There was a new hole in the mast a foot under the nest.

Before I could fire again, Danse’s laser rifle barked. I looked over at him, and he was shooting on one knee, rifle up and trained on the target. He was faster than I thought. Uh oh.

“Look again,” his tone was almost smug. I sighted on the nest, and saw a few twigs clinging for dear life but that was it.

“Shit.”

“Medium _well_ , Knight.” I looked over at him and his eyes were _twinkling._

“I feel like a laser rifle is cheating. You don’t have to compensate for bullet drop.”

“The lesson here is that while you might see my combat style as slow and cumbersome, I am still quite capable of ‘fast and light.’” he chided, not without humor in his voice. “And please, Knight. Don’t burn the tatos.”

  
  


Unfortunately for Danse, I burned the tatos. I also burned the steaks, and somehow managed to get dirt on them in the pan. I scraped it off the best I could, but the damage was done. He must have seen the anxiety on my face when I handed him his plate, because he looked from me to the plate suspiciously before accepting it. I settled across the fire from him, legs crossed, and tried to eat the disaster I had wrought.

It was silent for a while and I listened to Danse sawing and sawing and sawing away at the terribly dry steak, before at last taking a bite. He chewed thoughtfully for a moment, before saying,

“Knight… Did I just eat… a rock?”

“It’s possible. I’m sorry. I thought I got them all out.” My cheeks were flamingo pink and I stared down at my plate, refusing to meet his eyes.

“There was more than one?” his voice was amused.

“Listen, I was trying to cut the tatos and I knocked my pack over. It, in turn, knocked the pan off the fire... there was some dirt that got in the pan, it was a whole thing.”

There was a choking sound, and I looked up in alarm. If Danse choked to death out here in the middle of nowhere, how the hell would I explain _that_ to the Brotherhood?

Danse was _laughing._ Laughing, and trying desperately to contain it. No doubt he was trying to spare my feelings, but I didn’t mind. I am fully aware of my strengths and my limitations. He had one big hand over his mouth, and his face was red. His shoulders shook. I had never seen the man crack a real smile, let alone laugh. I should have cooked for him sooner. I threw my plate to the ground, the tin clattering against the pebbles, and laughed too. When he saw I was laughing, he took his hand from his mouth and laughed. It was a rich, velvety laugh and it lit up his whole face.

“Knight, I think the Brotherhood has found the most effective weapon in its arsenal yet,” he gasped. “Your god-awful cooking.”

I giggled harder and threw a sad, crispy slice of tato at him. He dodged it, still laughing, and tossed his plate next to mine. 

“I don’t suppose any of our packaged supplies survived that dip in the river you had earlier?” he asked morosely.

“I’ve got some Fancy Lad Snack Cakes,” I said. “Might be a little soggy but that is probably an improvement to them at this point.” 

The Snack Cakes were, blessedly, not soggy. They were individually wrapped and not too terrible. Thank god I’d traded that old pocket watch for some supplies back at Vault 81. Despite their age, the vault environment had helped preserve whatever freshness the cakes had. 

“What do you think about Scribe Haylen?” Danse asked me. 

I lifted my brows and licked some frosting off a finger. “Scribe Haylen? Is something wrong with her?”

“I --no, nothing’s wrong with her. I simply wanted to talk to you about her, but first wanted to know your thoughts on her.”

“Okay. She seems like a very dedicated member of your team. A good soldier. The kind of person who always has your back.” I wasn’t sure what he was going for here.

“I appreciate that, but… I’m not looking for an evaluation of her duties as a scribe, but more of your impression of her as a person.”

Ah ha. He was driving at something. “Danse, this isn’t like you. What is this really about?”

“There isn’t much that gets past you, is there?” He smiled, the firelight dancing over his face. “The truth is, I’m worried about her. I feel like you and I know each other well enough I can confide in you, get your… honest opinion.” 

I leaned forward, arms resting on my knees. “I’m all ears. And elbows.”

“A few months before you found us, one of my men was shot multiple times by raiders. Haylen stayed by his side for two days straight. She didn’t sleep, barely ate, doing everything she could to keep him alive. But he was on a slow decline.”

He rubbed a hand over his stubble, lost in the memory. “I decided that his suffering needed to end. I ordered Haylen to administer an overdose of painkillers, so he could die with dignity. I am certain she wanted to continue fighting for his life, but she injected him without question.”

“Hmm. That’s a tough call to make.”

“That soldier was gravely wounded. Even if by some miracle he had survived, he would have been paralyzed for life. But the decision on easing that soldier’s suffering isn’t the point here. The point is what happened later that same evening. Haylen approached me while I was on watch. She didn't say a word, just stood there, but I could tell something was wrong. After a long silence, she collapsed into my arms, crying. I didn’t know what to do, so I just… held her, for a while. She cried for a little while, then stopped. She kissed me on the cheek, said ‘Thank you’, and headed back into the police station.”

I listened, quietly, watching the emotions tumble through those expressive dark eyes.

“Right then, it hit me. Maybe I pushed her too hard. I ordered her to ignore her instincts. To do something her medical training told her was wrong. That’s why I’m worried about her. Her, and everyone under my command.”

“I think this isn’t so much about Haylen as it is about you,” I said gently.

He ran a hand through his hair and let a long breath out. “Look, four soldiers...half of my team, are gone. Each of them died because of decisions I made. We all understand the risks that come with the job. I know that. But how can anyone have confidence in me anymore? Hell, how can I have confidence in myself?”

“The fact that Haylen felt she could come to you… the way you held her… That shows how much you care about your people. And they, in turn, care about you. They follow you, listen to you, trust you... because of the man you are. Not just the rank you hold. You’re a good and honorable man, Danse. Even when you doubt yourself, they see it.”

His eyes met mine, and I could see warmth there. “I never really saw it that way.”

“I told you, back in Cambridge... I was there because I liked you. Even having only gone on one mission with you, I could see those same qualities. My first impressions are usually pretty spot-on.” _I knew a man like you, once. Good, honorable, kind._

“I suppose I could say the same, Penny.” 

I liked the way my name sounded coming from him. The rare use of it rolled over me like a sweet compliment. The more time I spent with Danse, the more I saw he stood in a different light from most of his brethren. He was a cut above the rest, and my hope was that in time he would dial back the rehearsed rhetoric and see that life of all kinds had value. The tenderness I felt in my heart when I looked at him worried me. What would I do if the Brotherhood - and Danse, as part of it - turned on me? Could I shoot him before he shot me?

I lay awake my entire sleep shift, my back to Danse, too many worries to wade through. _You are in way over your head now... Penny Dreadful and the Dark and Deadly Brotherhood._

  
  


-

**Danse**

I liked sitting on watch. It was peaceful, serene. A good time to unpack everything in my head after a long day. I sat on a fallen log, wishing we’d camped elsewhere. Penny liked the lake, wanted to skip rocks on it and fish, and despite my arguments… We set up camp on the shore. The lapping water disrupted the stillness, making it difficult to hear the sounds of anything that might be creeping up on us looking for a snack.

I had a hard time standing my ground against Penny. She had a way about her. A brick wall kind of way. When she planted her feet and squared her shoulders, I knew I was in for another argument about tactical soundness and somehow always caved to her will. So much for being her leader and teaching her. I smiled to myself in the dark. From my vantage point, I could see her sleeping form - her back was to the fire, and she shifted restlessly now and then. I watched the expansion and contraction of her ribcage as she breathed, noted the line of her hip where it tapered into her waist. I was doing it again, looking at her in a way I had no right to look. I was her superior officer, and she was a grieving widow with a lost child. 

I thought about our words earlier, about the way she had looked at me with those eyes of shifting peridot. She had called me a good and honorable man, and she had said it with an inflection of sweetness that felt like honey on my tongue. Was I imagining that there was something there, buried deep? 

When I slept, she was always in my dreams now. The ballerina on the stage, fragile and swaying and yet full of strength and standing tall. In the last dream, she had come close - lowering herself to her knees at the edge of the stage, leaning down towards me, eyes molten and her glorious shining hair falling around her like a fiery waterfall. She had looked into my eyes, down into the very center of my being, and had traced her soft fingers along either side of my face. A smile had shaped her lips, and then she was gone. The stage was empty.

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well this one got long. oops, sorry. :B

**Danse**

**  
  
**

Being around Penny often left me feeling as though I were being torn in two. One side of her matched one side of me. That was the side I understood, the side I knew how to deal with. The part of her that was sharp, quick on her feet, military-trained. A soldier who was more than capable of pulling her own weight, who’s rifles and handguns were like extensions of her body. In that regard, it was as though we were two sides of the same coin. The other side of her was the one I wasn’t sure what to do with. The side that bit with sarcasm instead of fangs, and was always making light of things that should be serious. The side that made excuses for synths and ghouls. She made it hard to adhere to the ideals of the Brotherhood. I felt as though they slipped through my fingers whenever she was near me.

I would find myself questioning the things I had been taught. When we had to stop by Diamond City and visit her... _ friend... _ Nick Valentine, I found myself doubting the image I’d had of synths being monstrous machines. Nick wasn’t even passably human, not physically. I could see gears clicking through the holes in his artificial skin. But the mannerisms were uncanny. The way he spoke to Penny with genuine affection and personality… that unsettled me.

When she drug me through Goodneighbor to drop off some information with her friend Hancock, I did my best to keep my lips tightly closed on the subject. The way he asked after her son, though… the way he put a hand on her arm and squeezed it kindly… I found myself asking what exactly was so bad about ghouls. They were regular people, before the radiation, were they not? Why were they to be ostracized for something out of their control? Something in which they were blameless? 

I watched the Minutemen build fences, stack bricks, repair roofs, dig ditches, feed those who had nothing, help plow fields, escort trade caravans… and I couldn’t help but wonder why all the Brotherhood was doing was clearing out super mutant nests and hunting for synths.

When I was alone, in between missions with her, I felt myself again. The presence of my brothers and sisters re-centered me. I would find myself tightening my grip on those values we all held dear, resolving that when I saw Penny again, I’d explain why they were so important. I forgot all the words, the entire speech, every single time she came waltzing into my world again. She was changing me. I knew it, felt it, fought it, but it was as water flowing over stone. The change was inevitable.  _ Did the grand canyon wish to be carved,  _ I wondered.

I had never known the kind of love she doled out to everyone who asked for it. I had been an orphan, getting by on scraps. When I’d opened my own trade booth, it had been a never ending battle over prices and haggling for goods. When I joined the Brotherhood, I understood the unspoken terms.  _ One of us or none of us.  _ Maybe that is why I felt so disjointed around her. I had never been around anyone who always did the right thing so naturally.

She was close to Preston. Very close. The first time I saw her run to him, hug him, and he returned the embrace... I stiffened and felt my gut clench so tightly it hurt. When she drug Preston over to me by the hand to introduce us, I realized this was simply the dynamic she had with him. She told me later about how he’d been the first friendly face she had met in the commonwealth. It was evident she loved him deeply, but it was not the kind of love I’d misjudged it to be. Relief fluttered in my stomach, and I smacked it down.

She had asked me to travel to the CIT ruins with her. She needed to find a Courser somewhere near there, and get the chip from its head. I was more than happy to oblige… anything that got us a step closer to the Institute was top priority. She had wanted to stop in Sanctuary for a day or two, first. She didn’t say it, not to me, but I could see it in her eyes; she was worried she wouldn’t be coming back from this. She wanted to say goodbye, just in case. Coursers were notoriously nasty. Few lived to tell the tale of running into one. They were the killing machines of the Institute. I was flattered she considered me the most capable of assisting, but I imagined it was more because of my power armor than anything else.

We spent the night there. The residents of Sanctuary cooked up an enormous meal in our - who am I kidding,  _ her _ \- honor. There were beers passed around, and I watched Penny come alive in good company. She shared some stories from her days in the Navy, like one where they taped a drunk crewman to the wall and hung coats on him. There was a surprise inspection, and the poor man just hung there, hidden in coats, afraid to make a peep. They hadn’t even noticed his feet peeking out past the coats.

“After that day,” Penny told us, laughing with tears in her eyes, “Anyone who passed him in the corridors would toss their hat on his head or a sock over his shoulder.” 

I wasn’t sure if it was the two beers I’d allowed myself, the group of friendly people, or her… But I felt an all-encompassing warmth in my body as I sat there. Penny was standing, pantomiming something ridiculous as the firelight caressed her, and I watched quietly. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. 

When we had all retired for the night, I lay in my temporary bunk and thought about the way the light had looked on the waves in her hair - like embers burning bright in a bed of coals. My mouth felt dry, my throat tight.  _ Get a grip on yourself, Danse. The way she sees you is likely the same way she sees Preston. Let it go.  _

But I couldn’t let it go. I decided to go on a walk. I slid my feet into my boots, but couldn’t find my tee shirt in the dark of the room. I decided it didn’t matter. It was a moonless night. Nobody would see me in my fatigues and bare chest. They were all asleep, letting the laser turrets take the night’s watch. I felt my way out of the house, and let the pavement guide me. The night’s cool air felt good on my skin, and I felt the tight feeling in my throat loosen a little. I walked about the small neighborhood, eyes adjusting to the dark slowly. I could see a light behind one of the houses - a solitary oil lamp. Someone had left it burning. Irresponsible, it could start a fire. As I crossed the dried grass, I heard a sound. I froze, perfectly still, and strained my ears.

Someone was crying. I heard a sniffle, a choking sound, muffled sobs. My first instinct was to back away from the sound immediately. I never know what to do when someone cries. When Haylen broke down on me, all I could do was stand there and pat her back gently until she was done. I never knew what to say in the face of pain like that. Something pulled me forward, though. I don’t know how, but I was pretty sure I knew who it was I was hearing crying in the dark.

I found Penny sitting on the ground behind one of the houses. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around them. Her face was buried in the crook of one arm, and her shoulders shook at the strain of repressing her tears. My eyes took in the details around her. She sat beside what was clearly a grave. From the way she was crying, I could guess who’s. I approached quietly, crouching when I was about three feet away. I was afraid if I started her she’d pop me like one of her tin cans.

“Hey,” I said, my voice as low as it could go. She started, looking up at me with stricken eyes. Her face was streaked with tears. When she focused on who I was, realizing I’d seen her so vulnerable, she slapped at the tears on her cheeks, snapping into her usual nonchalance. 

“Danse, I should have known you’d be creeping around the neighborhood in the dead of night. Could you be any weirder.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” I said soberly. “It looks like you couldn’t, either.”

“I know. I’m a rotten drunk. I get all squishy and can’t sleep. I never drink but I guess I decided it was a great idea for some reason tonight.”

I stayed silent, balancing on my heels, still crouched to her height. She was looking down at the grave, and a rebellious tear slid down her cheek. 

“I come out here sometimes to talk to him,” she confessed. “I don’t usually cry. Not like this. Usually I just… tell him how things are going. Let him know I’m working on getting our son back. That kind of thing.”

I nodded. “I used to talk to Cutler sometimes. When I was alone. I never knew if he was somewhere listening, but I think it was more...for me. I needed it.”

She ran a hand over her face, attempting to wipe away the remaining tears. “Yeah. Exactly.”

“What can I do to help?” 

She looked at me, eyes red-rimmed, full of sorrow, but still bright. “Walk me home? I’m tired. I think maybe I can sleep now.” 

I nodded, rising, and reached down to help her up. Her slender hands slipped into mine, and I pulled her up from the ground. She was so close I could smell her. Like razorgrain, warm from the sun. She didn’t drop my hands. Didn’t let go. I squeezed her hands in mine, gently. She looked up at me, tilting her head to look into my eyes, and then leaned into me. Her hands came up to my waist and encircled it, and she squeezed me fiercely tight. I stood there for a moment, not sure how to react, before my body took over for me and my arms rose to wrap around her in return. I held her tight, but not so tightly as she held me. She seemed fragil just then, and I feared I might break her. 

“Danse,” she whispered.

“Yes, Penny.”

“Your boo-boos are nakie.” She giggled. Well, she was clearly still feeling those beers. I squeezed her harder, then. 

“Be grateful it’s not worse.” 

She giggled again, and we lapsed into comfortable silence.

**Penny**

  
  


You know what is totally not awkward at all? Two days of travel ahead of you, with a man you sort of cuddled while shirtless. He was shirtless, not me. Just so we are clear. The morning after our little moment, he was the same old Danse. A little dour, a little amused, a little interested in the goings-on of Sanctuary. He didn’t say a word about the state he’d found me in the night before, and since he didn’t, I didn’t have to come up with any snappy jokes about it. Phew. That was one thing off his chest. Uh, my chest. One thing off  _ my  _ chest.  _ Penny Dreadful and The Nakie Boo Boos. _

He was ready to go long before I was, waiting patiently at the sign for Sanctuary Hills. He was fully suited up, his armor shining from a recent polish.  _ How does he find the time?  _ I am not, nor have I ever been, a morning person. Military life was a poor choice for someone who doesn’t stop drooling until 9AM. Nate had learned that quickly, and would bring me a cup of coffee in bed each time I stayed over. It was a tradition that followed into our marriage. Coffee first, then conversation. In the world after the bombs, there wasn’t exactly coffee growing on every corner. I hadn’t had a sip of the stuff since waking up in that vault. If you wanted pep in your step, there were plenty of chemicals and stims to do the trick… But I had never and would never touch the stuff. I had enough problems without adding those kinds of demons to my back.

Clouds were brewing overhead, and I sighed. Autumn was in full swing and the rains were coming more and more often. Good thing I’d packed a coat. I bid my farewells to Preston and the others, gave Dogmeat a comforting round of scritches, and then we were off. 

“Danse,” I spoke up after we’d been walking a while. “We should sing to pass the time. I bet you have a lovely soprano.” 

“I sing about as well as you cook,” he rumbled.

“Oh,  _ ouch, _ that’s real bad.” 

“The Brotherhood doesn’t require their soldiers to hone those particular skills.”

“Hmmm. Well, you had a life before the Brotherhood. What did you do for fun then?”

He looked at me askance. “For fun?”

“Yeah, you know, hobbies. Things that brought you joy, made you happy.”

“I spent most of my time focused on survival, building something that could sustain me.”

“You never went out drinking? Never danced?” I chuckled. “Dancing Danse.” 

He heaved a sigh. “No, not really. The only person I was close to was Cutler.” 

“Have you ever danced with  _ anyone _ ?” I asked, my spine tingling a little at the thought. 

“Never with anyone, and never alone.” Was his reply.

“Well, tell you what, after this business is done, I’m going to take you dancing.”

“Do you want to have another shooting contest over it?” he asked drily. 

“Oh, no you don’t. I’m not giving you an out this time.” 

I watched a self-satisfied smile slowly spread across his face and rolled my eyes. I was secretly pleased, though. He had come out of his shell so much in the weeks we had traveled together. His confiding in me about his worry over Haylen and his leadership had touched me deeply. He felt comfortable enough to bring it to me and trusted my judgement on the situation. I thought about last night, the way he’d held me, just like Haylen. But I felt as though it was different. He had been started by my contact, but then he had melted a little, softened, and returned my embrace. There was something about the way he’d returned it that made me feel nervous and sweaty. The memory of being pressed into his bare torso didn’t help things at all.

That was just what I needed. Slick palms when I was going into battle.

As I expected they would, the clouds opened up on us a little after we crossed through Lexington. I pulled out my Minutemen coat as soon as the first raindrop landed on my nose, and silently blessed Preston for loaning me his beaten tricorn hat. It was that or a trilby I’d found, and I think I might rather drown to death in the downpour than let something like that touch my head. Danse merely put his power armor’s helmet back on, and just like that he was completely waterproof. My own set of armor was back on the Prydwen. I just hated how clunky it made me feel. I preferred to feel the ground under my feet, the smooth wooden stock of my rifle against my fingers. Not to mention my .44 Magnums resting on my hips. I wish I had a horse. How cool would it be to ride around on a mighty steed with two big irons on my hips?

The water-resistant canvas of my coat kept me relatively dry, and despite the relentless deluge that poured down on us, we kept up a good pace. The rain let up after an hour, and night was falling by the time we reached the CIT ruins. 

“Do you want to set up camp for the night?” Danse asked me, surveying the crumbling building before us.

“No way, man. I am way too worked up to be able to sleep. We are here to find a  _ Courser.  _ What if we go to sleep and  _ it _ finds  _ us?”  _

“Very well, then. What’s your plan?”

“Well, I tune into the signal, and then we uh… find the Courser and shoot it.”

“That is a very… succinct plan.” 

“Well, I don’t know what else you expect. We have to find it, and we have guns to shoot at it with. We just need to be wary of any stealth shimmer. If it’s got a stealth boy, we’ll be shooting blind.”

Stealth Boys were pretty awesome. They generate a modulating field that transmits the reflected light from one side of an object to another, making it much harder to see them. Not impossible, though. If you focused, you could catch the telltale ripples in the air - almost like heat waves look. I wished I’d had one or two of those a few times in my life. Like the time my crewmates shaved my eyebrows off and I had to go to that year’s military ball without them. The memory of it haunted me to this day.

Danse saw me shudder and patted my back - a little too hard, with those piston-driven arms. “We will come out of this victorious,” he vowed.

“What? Oh. Right. Sorry. Thinking about eyebrows.”

His return look was utterly bemused, but he didn’t ask. I guess he was used to me now. I opened the menu on my pip boy and clicked it onto the Courser’s signal. It was very faint. We would have to move closer to establish the location. 

As we worked our way through the streets, we ran into a few raiders. Man, those guys were always so… gross. They liked to hang bodies over the barbed wire of their barricades as a warning to others. 

“That's just unsanitary,” I cringed, lobbing a plasma grenade into their little fort. Danse made no comment, but mowed down a couple more of the raiders as they fled the spot, trying to evade the blast. 

From there, we followed the signal until we reached the old Greenetech Genetics building. The signal indicator was beeping loudly.

“I think we found our Courser,” I said. I flourished at the door. “Age before beauty.” 

The building was a war zone. There were dead Gunners everywhere… draped over desks, sprawled out on the floor in pools of blood. I wasn’t sure how they were involved with our Courser, but they had clearly tangled with it and lost. High above, in one of the upper floors, we could hear gunfire and shouting. A voice over the speakers was alerting the Gunners throughout the building on the Courser’s position.

“They have the higher ground here,” Danse cautioned. “Be very careful.” 

We worked our way up the levels. The place was overrun with Gunners. They were a shoot-first-ask-questions-later bunch, and we took some heavy fire as we made our way. Between them and the turrets stationed throughout, Danse’s power armor lost it’s shine pretty fast. I ducked behind him a couple times. He made excellent cover. 

We were near the top when we heard voices.

“ _ Please _ , I don’t know. You’ve gotta believe me, _ I don’t know the password. _ ” 

“I do not believe you.” a cold voice. Devoid of emotion. There was a thud, like something hard hitting soft meat. A whimper answered the sound.

Danse and I paused on the stairs, listening.

“Give me what I need, and we can end this.” The hard voice again. More gurgling whimpers. I didn’t know if he had a Gunner held in there, or if an innocent was involved. My first thought was to toss a grenade... Or two… or ten… in, but I didn’t want to risk any innocents.

_ “I’m going in,” _ I mouthed to Danse, who nodded his helmeted head.

Rifle at the ready, I entered the room. The Courser was tall, male, wearing a long black leather coat and gloves. He looked chiseled from marble; Cold, statuesque, impassive. He stood over a Gunner who was bound, resting on his knees, bleeding from multiple contusions and bruises just beginning to flower beneath the skin. There were two other Gunners, similarly trussed, sitting against the railing. Waiting their turn, no doubt.

The Courser looked up from his handiwork, entirely unbothered by my presence. He didn’t see me as a threat. Not yet, anyway.

“Are you here for the synth?” he inquired.

“What synth?” I wasn’t sure what he meant by that. I mean, he  _ was  _ a synth.

“If you are not here for the synth, then you are here for me,” he surmised. He raised his laser rifle with an alarming speed. I barely had time to react, spinning my body away as he fired. I almost dodged it.  _ Almost _ . A burning, fire-hot pain tore through my side and I slammed into the wall. I answered his fire with my own, gasping through the pain. Adrenaline was already smoothing out the worst of it.

“That really fucking  _ hurt, _ ” I yelled. I got a couple rounds in, and then he blipped out of my vision as he activated a stealth boy.  _ Oh, hell.  _ I ducked, rolled, dashing behind the doorway for cover. I squinted, looking for the telltale shimmer. There it was. 

“There!” I cried to Danse. “2:00!” 

He opened fire, laser rifle blazing, and I opened fire as well. The shimmers in the air warped, then dispersed, and the Courser opened fire again… but chunks were torn away from his flesh, holes in his jacket bled freely, and his aim was wavering. 

“We’ve got him!” I crowed, leaning out to get a better shot.

That little plastic bastard hit me again. He was lightning fast. I felt the hit, felt the laser fire bite into me, but I was on target and I fired two rounds directly into his face. The Courser crumpled at last, and lay still. His fingers twitched, spasmed on his rifle, and then relaxed. I was breathing hard, and let my rifle drop low.

“You’re  _ hurt _ ,” I heard Danse exclaim, with more than a little concern. I looked up at him, then down at myself. The first shot had just caught me on the side - carving a little trench through my skin just below my ribs. It hurt like hell, but it wasn’t fatal. The second shot had hit me on the right side of my chest. I was still standing, so my guess was it hadn’t hit anything important.

“I will be fine,” I panted. “I’ll use a stimpack in a second. Good hell, he about gave me a run for my money.”

“Coursers are the hands of the Institute,” Danse said grimly. “They are sent to the surface to conduct their master’s business, and they are quite deadly.”

“Let’s go see who they have locked up in there,” I said, gesturing at the room the Courser had been so intent on gaining access to.

  
  
  
  


**Danse**

  
  


I highly disapproved of Penny releasing the captive synth, but per the usual, Penny didn’t concern herself with the ramifications of unleashing a synth on the commonwealth. I understood that she cared for Nick Valentine, but this escape synth was an unknown, and could cause some serious damage to any innocents who crossed it. We dispatched the remaining Gunners. Penny did not want to worry about them chasing the synth down again.

She responded to my words of caution with an eye roll, pressed a bottle of purified water and a satchel of food into the synth’s hands, and sent her on her way. I wanted to be angry with her, but my frustration was a slippery thing I could find no purchase on. She wanted to go through the Gunner’s belongings, and was hefting a bandolier loaded with 5.56 rounds from one of them when I saw her stumble, stagger, and fall to her knees. I was at her side in a moment, holding her up by an elbow.

“I am starting to wonder if you aren’t in more pain than you are letting on,” I commented. Her face was white as a sheet. She screwed up her face at me, and that was when I heard it - a whistling wheeze in her labored breathing.

“Penny,” I said, losing all formality. “I need you to lie down for me.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Danse, you dirty little birdie.”

“Damn it, Penny. I mean it. I am pretty sure you have a punctured lung, and I need to take a look.”

“Okay, okay, I’m doing it.” She lowered herself to the ground, wheezing. Even in pain she had the ability to frustrate me to no end.

I pulled the release on my power armor, stepping out of it, and moved to her side. I unbuckled her combat vest as gently as I could and slid it over her head. She groaned at the movement. I unbuttoned the flannel shirt she wore, now soaked with blood. I expected her to say something sarcastic, but she was silent, sweat shining on her brow. I took note of a tattoo, in fancy cursive scrawl, across her collarbone. It read _‘Penny Dreadful.’_ The hole was directly over her right lung, and the source of the whistling was definitely due to pneumothorax. I thought back to my field triage training, and grabbed the med kit from Penny’s bag.

In the emergency surgery kit, I found what I needed - a syringe with a long, hollow needle. 

“Penny,” I said, patting her face to get her to focus. I was losing her fast. “I need to relieve the pressure on your lung. It’s not going to feel so great, and I am sorry.” She reached up, felt for my arm, squeezed it.

"I promised you a dance," she whispered. A tear slid down her temple.

Carefully, I positioned the needle in the way I remembered the scribe showing us, and slid it in. That was when Penny lost consciousness.


	7. Chapter 7

**Penny**

I opened my eyes to the slats of a wooden roof I did not recognize. I sat up, and pain made my vision blur for a moment. I lay back and groaned. This was worse than a hangover after 50. A bandage criss-crossed my torso, and blessedly preserved my modesty. Oh, wait, shit… Who put the bandages on me? Mortification, scarlet as a ripe tato, spread across my face at the thought of Danse wrapping my naked torso in bandages. 

“You’re in Bunker Hill,” Danse’s voice came from the far corner, deep and comforting. He stood, and came into the soft light of the lamp. “I brought you here after the Courser fight. Doctor Kay patched you up better than I had the skills for. You were badly hurt.” 

“You should...see the other guy,” I managed to get out. My chest felt like someone had power-stomped on it with a full set of power armor on. 

“The doctor told me you very nearly died,” he said severely. “You got too cocky, and your carelessness almost got you killed.” 

Weeeoo, the disapproval in his voice was so thick I could paint Diamond City’s wall with it. 

“That’s a funny way to say you’re happy I’m okay,” I waggled my brows at him.

“Penny,” his voice was close to a yell. He dropped to a knee beside me, leaning over me - a hand on the wall my bed rested against. I shrank a little. “You are only _okay_ because I was there with you. Do you understand that? If you had taken anyone else with you, anyone at all, you wouldn’t be here right now. Do you know how that makes me feel?” 

His vehemence startled me, scared me a little. My voice came out small, like a little kid’s, and I hate how it sounded to my ears. “No. Tell me, Danse. How does it make you feel?”

“It makes me feel like if I leave your side, even for a moment, something terrible will happen to you. I don’t know if I could live with that.” 

“Oh.”

“You’re not immortal,” Danse softened his tone. “You can get hurt, just like I can. Just like Preston or Hancock can. That hole in your chest, the shot that nearly killed you… That’s what will happen if you aren’t more careful. You _have_ to be careful. There are people counting on you. The Minutemen, the Brotherhood. Your...son.” 

I felt tears come to my eyes at that. He was right. That shot could have killed me, and there would be nobody left to rescue my son. He’d grow up the rest of the way without ever having really met me.

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” Danse’s eyes had their own pain in them. “I only want you to see that this is all bigger than you now.”

“You’re right,” I breathed out, and it hurt. “I know. I will try to be better.” I reached up with my left arm and pinched his cheek. “I gotta stick around for my favorite Paladin.” 

The embers in his eyes made my heart beat faster.

“Now that you are awake,” he said after a long moment, “I need to tell you that I have been called to the Prydwen to take care of some business. I was told to report in as soon as you were awake and I had confirmed your status.”

“Oh,” I let my hand drop. “Okay. I should be ready to go in a day or two.”

Danse shook his head. “No, you’re sitting this one out. It’s just a short recon mission, and you need to be at full strength for the road ahead. I won’t be long. A few days, maybe a week. When I return, I will come find you in Sanctuary. While I am gone, you should look into getting that Courser chip decoded. Then we will be better able to plan our next move.” 

I nodded. “Alright. I can do that.”

“I sent word to Goodneighbor, since they are close by. Hancock is on his way. He will accompany you on your mission to decode the chip, and ensure you don't run into any trouble. Or,” he said admonishingly, seeing the look on my face, “push yourself too hard.” 

“Ugh, fine, okay,” I groaned. 

He shocked the shit out of me when he stood up, reached down, pinched _my_ cheek, and said:

“I’ll be back for _my_ favorite Knight.”

  
  


-

Hancock took one look at me - wrapped in bandages and my bloody flannel shirt pulled over me and worn unbuttoned - and looked dubious about my outstretched arms. 

“I dunno, doll, seems like hugging you like that might get me killed by the good doctor.”

“I am _fine_ , Hancock. Really. A little tender, but she was able to repair the lung and the stimpacks are working great.”

He relented, helping me to my feet and allowing a careful hug.

“So,” I asked, trying to do my buttons and struggling, “Any thoughts on who could help decode this thing?”

Hancock swatted my hands away and buttoned my shirt for me, trying to be respectful - but Hancock was Hancock, and his eyes wandered.

“Up here, buddy.”

“Can’t blame a guy for lookin’. Anyway, to answer your question, the Railroad is gonna be your best bet. They know a whole lot about synth stuff, bein’ as they free them and shit.”

I’d heard of the Railroad. Preston was always chatting about them approvingly, Proctor Quinlan hated them. I hated Proctor Quinlan - that rotten little tight-lipped twat - so that worked out perfectly. They helped escaped synths make new lives for themselves in the Commonwealth. Sounded like good guys to me. We could always use more of those.

“Where do we find this elusive Railroad? I don’t even know where to start.” I was trying to buckle my holsters back on, and failing. Hancock had to help with that, too. 

“Well lucky for you, ol’ Hancock knows everything worth knowing. There is a rumor that if you follow the Freedom Trail, you’ll end up right where you need to be.”

I winced. “There is a lot of super mutant and raider territory on that route.”

He cupped my chin. “Hey, come on, it’s _me._ You do the walky walky, I do the shooty shooty. Deal?” 

“Deal. But you have to carry me, too.”

“With a caboose like that, I could stand to suffer the load a little while.” He giggled.

_“Hancock!”_

-

Following the freedom trail was eerie. The last time I had walked it was with Nate, on a day trip to Boston. We had been craving Mike’s pastries, enough to make the drive, and decided while we were in town we’d hit all the classics. Now, rubble covered most of it. At one point we lost it and had to climb through a fallen building to relocate it. And of course, there were lots and lots of super mutants. They give me the willies, always saying things like _Me eat human, yum yum._ No thanks, I think I will pass on the dinner invite.

The stimpacks were working wonders on knitting me back together, but Kay had been adamant on me taking it easy, so I settled for begrudgingly hiding behind rubble and occasionally _pew-pewing_ any mutant hounds that got too close to Hancock while he dealt with their masters. Of all my friends in the commonwealth, Hancock was the most like me. If I focused on that fact too hard I might be disturbed, but.. The point is, we got along swell. 

“Ya know, your soldier buddy surprised the heck out of me, reaching out like he did.” Hancock was twirling the machete he’d picked off of a dead mutant, and I was waiting patiently for him to lose a couple fingers.

“How so?” 

“Well, for one, he called _me_. Instead of setting one of his obedient little dogs to watch over you. For two, when I asked him what the hell he wanted with me, he said… and I quote… ‘ _Penny needs you right now, and whatever the animosity between us, she is the most important thing_ ’.” 

I focused on my feet and tried to hide the uptick at the corners of my mouth.

“If I didn’t know any better,” Hancock went on, machete still twirling, “I’d think that big dumb oaf was sweet on you.”

“Who isn’t, Hancock? C’mon, look at me.” I flipped my hair over my shoulder and strutted for a ways. Hancock laughed.

“Yeah, you got me there, sunshine.” 

We found the Railroad eventually. The Freedom Trail led us to the old King’s church. After some rummaging around and making the acquaintance of a handful of feral ghouls, we found a door leading down into the tunnels beneath the church.

“I had no idea these tunnels were down here,” I said, both awed and disgusted. It was dark, damp, and smelled like rotting… _Something._ As top secret headquarters went, it was a little depressing. 

“Me neither,” Hancock said, rummaging through the pockets of some skeletal remains. “OOooo, Mentats!”

“Those things will kill you, you know.”

“Baby I’m gonna live forever,” was his reply. 

More twists and turns led us to a dead end and a password-activated plate. The password wasn’t 1-2-3-4, but honestly, it was about as simple. The Railroad members were nice, once you got past the guns pointed at you part. I met Glory, Drummer Boy - A rum-pa-pa-pum, sorry not sorry - Deacon, and Desdemona. Desdemona’s eyes about flew out of her skull when I casually asked her if she could decode a Courser chip. Apparently ‘Courser killer’ was the magical phrase, because when Deacon called me that, they all but carried us in over their threshold. 

Desdemona promised to decode the chip for me, on the condition they kept the chip after. I had no attachment to it beyond the information it held, so I agreed to her terms. In less than an hour Tom had it decoded, and I was holding a holotape copy of the information in my hands. I found myself fairly quiet for most of the trip back to Sanctuary. I was _so close_ to finding my son now.

“Holy shit, Hancock,” I murmured at last, the holotape still clutched in my hand miles out from the Railroad. “Do you realize what I’m holding?” 

“The keys to the kingdom?” 

“Yeah, man. Exactly that.”

  
  


**Danse**

“Paladin.”

“Sorry, yes, what is it?” My mind was far away, and I snapped back into focus.

“I was asking you if you had anything further to add to your report.” Maxson was regarding me with mild irritation, like a teacher who knows you haven’t paid any attention to the lesson at hand.

“Elder, my apologies. No, my report summarized it entirely. The patrol that went dark at the edge of the glowing sea fell to deathclaws.”

Maxson traced the scar that ran down the side of his face. “Abominations. They are yet another example of the folly of man. The Brotherhood will honor the sacrifice of our fallen.”

I saluted. “Ad Victoriam, Elder.”

“Ad Victoriam, Paladin.” 

I waited for him to dismiss me, but he continued to regard me quietly, fingers still tracing the jagged line on his cheek.

“Paladin,” he mused, “You have not seemed yourself of late. Is there anything I should know?” 

“Not myself?” I wasn’t sure what he meant by the remark.

“Yes, Paladin. You are distracted, at times unfocused. It was reported to me that the other night you sat in the mess hall, staring into your food, until everyone else had gone. Are you feeling your best?” The way he was looking at me - through me - was unsettling.

“I am in perfect health, Elder, I assure you.”

“Ah. Maybe something else ails you, then.”

“Sir?”

“Paladin, I shouldn’t have to remind you that any sort of emotional entanglement is undesirable and specifically discouraged. Such feelings tend to be sand in the oil of a machine. Sand wears down the moving parts of the machine, leaving it susceptible to failure. The Brotherhood is that machine, Danse. It runs smoothly only when the oil is clean and unmuddied.”

“Elder, I am not sure I understand.”

“I too have been distracted by pretty things in my life, from time to time. I know the signs. Whatever there is between you and your newest recruit, it ends now. Do you understand me?” 

He was using a tone that brooked no argument. A tone he rarely used with me. I felt my stomach drop. I had failed him in my weakness for Penny.

“Yes, Elder, I understand. My mind and my body are the Brotherhood’s.”

“Good. That is all. You are dismissed, Paladin.”

  
  


I walked back to my bunk, numb. How had I let myself get to familiar, so relaxed? To the point Elder Maxson himself had noticed? I needed to get my head back on the mission. 

My patrol’s trip to the glowing sea had been an eventful one. We had found the scattered remains of several suits of power armor, rent to pieces by some _very_ large claws. From there, we tracked the beast. What we ended up finding was a nest. There were two of the wretched beasts, guarding a clutch of six eggs. I was appalled at the thought of six more of the creatures set loose on the world. 

The five of us, aided by a laser gatling and a missile launcher, were a surprisingly equal match for the deathclaws, and we made it out of the sea intact - minus the plating on my left arm suffering some casualties. I had thought about Penny - out there on the sea as well - maybe on her own, attacked and eaten by deathclaws. The thought had made me ill, so much so I thought I would have to remove my helmet and retch. 

Thinking back to how I’d felt on that mission, I could see what Elder Maxson meant. I was distracted, and distracted soldiers got either themselves or others killed. For us to prevail in our mission, he needed all of us at our best. And now I was supposed to rendezvous back at Sanctuary with Penny. I’d promised to meet her there after my return. The thought made me nervous. I wasn’t certain of anything when I was with her, and I worried I would once again feel my grip on the Brotherhood loosening. I could _not_ disappoint the Elder again, such an outcome was unacceptable.

I would get a good night’s sleep and head back to the ground in the morning.

_The figure on the stage is motionless, stretched out and swan-like in repose on the black wood. Burnished hair, gleaming, is spread about her in a silken halo. One graceful hand rests on her chest, over her heart. Something shines, and I lean closer, straining to see. A slash of crimson, corrupting the fair skin, pulsing out between her too-still fingers._

_She turns her head, just enough to look at me. She is dying. I see it in the way her eyes shine too brightly, in the way her hand lies limply, allowing the blood to flow at will. I move to leap onto the stage, to help her, but a shadow falls over her. The shadow of a deathclaw, claws extended, horns crowning the hideous head. I cry out, look up - and the thing standing over her is not a deathclaw, but Elder Maxson, his hand raised and a revolver glinting in the dim light._


	8. Chapter 8

**Penny**

I was in my kitchen, trying to find the last box of snack cakes, when I heard - and felt - the steps of power armor. I shot upright and bashed my head on the cabinet.  _ Okay, OUCH.  _ I was gingerly feeling the lump when my door opened and Danse ducked through the doorway.

“Geeze, Danse, haven’t you ever heard of knocking? I could have been naked and barefoot in my kitchen,” I teased.

He looked at me with serious eyes, and I knew we were back to square one again. Every time he went back to the Prydwen without me, he wasn’t the same upon returning. He would come back all tight in the shoulders and stiff with me, and it would take days to coax him back out of the wall of armor he kept putting between us. I sighed and massaged the growing goose egg on my noggin.

“My apologies, Knight. I can return later if this is not a good time.”

“Damn it, Danse, it’s fine. I just bonked my head on the cabinet is all.” 

He moved in from the doorway, at least, filling my living room in that suit of power armor. 

“Would you like a snack? Are you hungry?” I gestured at a plate of biscuits. He looked at the plate on the counter warily, and I saw fear and dread flash over his face. “Jesus Christ, Danse,  _ I _ didn’t make them. Mama Murphy did. They’re safe.” 

His eyes flicked up to mine and I caught a glimpse of the man who had braved a bite of my cooking, in a time that now felt very long ago. I sighed with frustration and began opening and closing cabinet doors loudly. It’s universal lady language. Mad at a man? Slam the cabinet doors until he apologizes. Works like a charm, every time.

“Do you need help searching for something?” Danse asked. The toneless inflection broke my heart a little.

“No, Danse, I’ve got it. Thanks.” 

“My mission was a success, and I am ready for whatever the next stage of your plan is.”

“Yes, Danse, I had assumed as much.”  _ Slam. Slam.  _

“You are angry with me.” He always abandoned contractions when he was in Brotherhood mode.

“Bingo!” I yelled, while simultaneously spying the sneaky snack cakes. I miscalculated the depth of the cabinet, and my leap to victory resulted in bashing my head against the cabinet  _ again. “God damn it, OW!” _

When I rose from behind the cabinet for a second time, hair over my face and the snack cakes in a death grip, I distinctively saw a twitch at the corner of his mouth.  _ Aha, there you are, you slippery but sweet shithead.  _

“I am sorry if I startled you with my entrance,” he began.

I set the snack cakes down on the counter. “Go on.”

“I don’t know what else you want me to say. I startled you, and I am sorry.”

“Danse.” I was struggling to feel him out, but his dark eyes were so guarded now. What was going on in that head of his?

“I have nothing further to say.” he shrugged.

“Maybe start with explaining what is up with the whole Dr Jeklyll/Mr Hyde bit.”

“The doctor what?”

“Why is it every time we start to get a little close, you turn into someone I don’t recognize shortly after.”

“I assure you, I am the same man you knew before. I am the same as I have always been.”

“Bullshit. You’re different. You’re acting weird and you know it.”

He had that look about him like he was backed into a corner and wanted out. “I have been thinking about things.”

“Oh, do tell.”

“It is my belief that your emotions and your poor tactical choices are impairing our mission.”

“Our mission? Do you mean yours and mine, or do you mean yours and the Brotherhood’s?”

His jaw tightened at that. “They should be one and the same.”

“I think we both know they are not. I want to preserve all the life I can - all sentient beings. The Brotherhood seems to spend a lot of time taking it. I don’t think I like being part of your little club.”

His nostrils flared, and I could see a war raging inside him. Why did I get the feeling ‘my’ side was losing?

“That is dangerously close to insubordination...even treason, Knight.”

I slammed my fists down on the counter, and he jumped. “My  _ name _ is Penny, and if you call me ‘Knight’ instead of that one more time, I am going to throw one of these biscuits at you.”

He regarded me coolly, and I saw iron steal into his eyes, hardening him against me.  _ Damn it, Danse, come on. _

“I think it would be best if you had some time to yourself, to reflect on your mission. On the Brotherhood’s mission.”

“Then go, Danse. Just get out.” I sighed. “I can’t beat all the voices in your head that are busy indoctrinating you.” 

He looked at me, and there was sorrow in his face. The part of him I knew and cared for was in there, but the soldier always seemed to win out in the end. Without another word, he turned and walked out of my house… leaving the door swinging open behind him.

  
  


-

That was how we left things. He went back to the Prydwen, and I busied myself with plans for a trip to the Institute. I felt like I’d lost him. For all I knew, he’d gone back to that cursed blimp and reported everything to them. Maybe they had kicked me out and I just hadn’t gotten the memo yet. Maybe I’d be out walking one day and a vertibird full of soldiers would drop out of the sky and light me up. Well, that would be grand, wouldn’t it? Just another innocent mowed down for blocking the Brotherhood’s agenda.

Preston accompanied me back to Virgil’s hideout to pick up the blueprints as agreed upon. I wanted to tell him about the falling out with Danse, but that would mean telling Preston more than I was ready to voice to anyone. I mean, hell, I couldn’t even have a conversation with  _ myself _ about it.

“I did not expect to see you again,” Virgil said upon seeing us. “Especially not in one piece.” 

“Oh, he got me good,” I replied. “I just got him better.” 

“Well, I am impressed. Not many can say they survived a Courser encounter, let alone they came out the victor.”

“So I keep hearing.” 

As promised, Virgil had drawn up the blueprints for an Institute teleporter. In exchange for the blueprints, he wanted me to find his old lab within the Institute and retrieve a serum for him. It would, he hoped, cure him of the particular strain of FEV he had.

“So you’re saying you’d rather not be the Jolly Green Giant for all time and eternity.”

It was hard not to laugh when he glared at me through those undersized spectacles, so I took my blueprints, dismissed myself, and we wandered back out into the glowing sea. 

The glowing sea was frightening. In the rest of the commonwealth, you might have to deal with raiders or super mutants, once in a while a group of feral ghouls. But this was a whole ‘nother thing. Packs of mother in - I mean, deathclaws. Radscorpions. Pools of brightly glowing nastiness. Lots of giant bugs. It was some small blessing that I had not met a radioactive spider yet. Only the strong survived the blast. Things you’d rather didn’t survive. What the locals called ‘Bloodbugs’ were, from what I could tell, mutated mosquitoes. I think I preferred the itch version to the much larger, freaky version they were now. Makes sense, right? Mosquitos, cockroaches… two things people hated most and couldn’t seem to exterminate before the bombs dropped.

The wreckage of Skylanes Flight 1665 made my skin crawl. The once huge plane was in pieces, charred bone and scattered belongings littering the wreckage and the ground around it. We found the final transmission, and out of curiosity, I played it.

“... _ Approaching Boston from the west. We’ve got heavy winds, but it shouldn’t be a problem. Lining up for runway 2 at heading...What the hell is that? Some kind of bright light from the north…” _

“Jesus, imagine being on this flight,” I said. 

“They all died here. Likely from the crash itself, instead of the radiation. I’m not sure if that’s better.” Preston surveyed the wreck around us, the framework of the plane stark against the sky like the bones of a whale. 

“I am gonna vote better… Death by radiation is pretty gnarly. Crisped like a french fry is faster, at any rate.”

“Why did they do it? Bomb each other into oblivion?”

“I wish I could tell you, Big P. I don’t even know who started it. One day I was living my life, and the next, I was running to a vault while the world around me crumbled.”

We followed the way we had come in back out, and managed to avoid any of the real big nasties. We were armed to the teeth, but if you can avoid a deathclaw… you avoid a deathclaw. I hoped Sturges had what he needed to build this contraption. It was hard to be patient when I was one machine away from seeing my son again.

Sturges had his work cut out for him building the teleporter. 

“Look, boss, I wish I could tell you want to hear. That it will be done in a jiffy. But we are talkin’ about building  _ Institute technology  _ here. The materials themselves ain’t hard to find, but this is gonna be some delicate work. You’d be better off finding somethin’ to occupy your time. It’s gonna be a while. We can radio you when it’s all set.”

A message had come in while Preston and I were out. Elder Maxson wanted to chat again. Well, I guess that was something to do. I wasn’t sure how much I trusted the message. Had Danse sold me out? Was I a sheep walking into a slaughterhouse if I answered the summons? I mulled it over. No, I didn’t think he would. He might care more about playing soldier boy than having my back, but I knew he cared about me. The way he’d acted after I got shot told me he did. He was a good man. There was no way he’d throw me under the bus and let the Brotherhood bring me to any harm.

I tossed a vertibird flare out later that day, a ways out from Sanctuary so they didn’t disturb any of the new shoots of corn growing with those big rotors, and hitched a ride back to the Prydwen. Why walk when I could fly? 

I felt nervous as we approached the big airship. I didn’t know what Maxson wanted, and that made me twitchy. And then there was the whole, is it going to be awkward seeing Danse? Had he slipped even farther from me in his time on the ship while I was out traipsing through the glowing sea? He had told me he was afraid to leave me alone for a moment, that I’d get myself hurt. I understood the sentiment. I didn’t want to leave him alone either. There was something about the Brotherhood that crushed everything sweet in Danse, like petals in an iron fist. If push came to shove, I’d push. Push them right off the Prydwen.  _ He’s my friend now, not yours, byeeeee enjoy the ride down.  _

I didn’t see Danse on my way to the command deck. Who knew if he was even on the ship. Maxson was pacing back and forth, leaning forward and looking out the viewing windows, when I entered. He saw me and straightened, and I gave the obligatory salute which he returned.

“Knight. Danse tells me you dismissed him and continued the mission alone.”

_ Oh, did he.  _ “I, uh, yes. I decided one was better than two for the time being.”  _ Except he is the one who marched out.  _

“Not a particularly effective solution,” Maxson commented. “But that is not relevant at the moment. He says you are close to finding a way into the Institute. Is that correct?”

“Yeah. I’ve got one of my boys building a teleporter as we speak.”

His brow darkened. “I am disappointed you did not come to us with this. We have far better resources than your Minutemen. But no matter. I have called you here to discuss something else.”

Oh, hell. Here we go.

“Should you make it to the Institute without incident, I need you to locate a certain Doctor Madison Li. She is the key to our mission here being a success.”

“What do we need a doctor for?”

“That is on a need to know basis, Knight.”

“Hey, if I am going into the Institute guns a-blazing all by myself, I’d like to know the  _ whys _ of what I do.”

Maxson tilted his head at me, considering. “This is precisely why I hesitate on recruits that are fully matured. They tend to argue with orders.”

“I tend to be argumentative.”

“So I have seen. All you need to know is Madison Li has worked with us on a project in the past, and now we need her assistance again.”

“Okay, I will see what I can find out. If they don’t shoot me first.”

“Excellent. That is all, Knight. You are dismissed.”

I turned and walked out, forgetting the whole salute and ad victoriam nonsense, but Maxson didn’t comment on it to my retreating back.

I stepped back into the fresh air of the outer deck. Up here, the wind was punishing - whipping through my clothing, icy and unforgiving. I shivered. I’d left my jacket at home like an idiot. I was always forgetting  _ something.  _ The hatched opened and closed behind me, but I didn’t turn to look as I made my way back to the vertibird. A hand closed around my upper arm, and my brain immediately jumped to:  _ this is it, Penny. This is the part where they throw you over the rail for being a smartmouth to their precious Elder.  _ I whirled, pulling my arm from the grip and turning to face my doom.

Danse stood there, in black fatigues and an olive green sweater. His dark hair whipped about in the gusts and his eyes were intense but unreadable.

“What do  _ you  _ want?” I said, nearly shouting over the wind. 

He shook his head. Mouthed,  _ not here, _ and motioned for me to follow him. Well, he hadn’t thrown me over the side, so I might as well see what he wanted.

He led me around to the side of the ship to an alcove that provided some wind protection and privacy. It was a little close quarters with both of us squeezed in there, and I willed the memories of a similar closeness and bare skin out of my mind.  _ No, Penny, you’re mad at him, remember? We don’t acknowledge the barrel chest in the room. Ever. _

“I wanted to wish you luck on your journey to the Institute,” he said, his low voice deep and easy to hear despite the noise of the ship. “And ask you to please be careful. You don’t know what might await you there.”

“Are you telling me this as a soldier of the Brotherhood or as my friend?” I asked, one eyebrow cocked. 

“Both.” 

“Ok, gotcha. So be careful, don’t get deaded, Ad Victoriam. I’m sure the Brotherhood will honor my sacrifice if I do. Danse,  _ what do you want from me? _ ”

He looked like he desperately wanted to say something more, and his hand came up and rested on my arm for a moment before he let it fall. “Ad Victoriam, Knight,” was all he ended up saying before he stepped out of the alcove and made his way back to the door. My eyes bored holes into his wide back as he left.  _ Ugh. _ Why did I always end up involved with the emotionally stunted soldier type? Nate had been my one exception to that rule.  _ Woah, hold up, Penny. Involved with? What, you’re involved with Danse? Does he know this?  _

I needed to clear my head and find something to do while Sturges worked his magic. The folks at Finch Farm had been in need of some assistance building a greenhouse, so that is where I went and busied myself for the next week.

**Danse**

I had vowed I would stay strong and stand firm, but seeing that head of bright hair bobbing through the crowd of the Prydwen immediately weakened me. I knew Elder Maxson had called her to discuss the issue of Madison Li, and meant to busy myself elsewhere, but like a moth to a flame… there I stood, hiding in the shadows and watching her pass. My impulse control was really struggling of late. 

“You should talk to her,” Haylen’s voice behind me made me jump a mile out of my skin. I turned to look behind me, and she stood there with a small smile on her face.

“Talk to who, Scribe?” I asked carefully.

“ _ Penny. _ You should talk to her. Ever since you came back from your last mission with her, you have been very quiet and wound up. Clearly there is something you need to tell her, and haven’t been able to.” 

I frowned at her. “This is hardly relevant to your current assignment, Haylen.” 

“Yes, sir, I know. But you can’t be at your best if you don’t resolve whatever is going on between the two of you.”

I sighed. “You are right. I will talk to her. Dismissed, Scribe.” 

She saluted, still wearing that smile, and left me to my thoughts. After Penny had finished speaking with the Elder, she made her way out of the ship. I followed her, hoping to catch her alone. On the deck, I pulled her aside. Somewhere away from prying eyes and the freezing wind that was clearly cutting straight to the bone and making her shiver. She was wearing only her token flannel shirt and jeans, pistols ever on her hips.

I tried to talk to her. I tried to convey the things I felt in my heart, but my head wouldn’t allow them out. Instead I gave her a clumsy pep talk. Anger sparked in her eyes and I felt like a chasm was opening between us. 

“ _ What do you want from me, Danse?”  _ she’d asked. 

I must have completely lost my mind, because my first instinct was to kiss her. I felt my body betraying me, my hand reaching up to hold her, my eyes focusing on her full lips, felt my body lean ever so slightly inward - and then I caught myself, took control again, and pulled back.  _ What was I thinking? That she wanted my pathetic advances? _

“Ad Victoriam, Knight,” was all I could trust myself to say. I had to leave before I lost myself again. Before I disregarded Elder Maxson’s orders entirely. I was on treacherous ground when I was close to her, and I knew it. I left her standing there, glaring after me, hair streaming out behind her like a radiant banner in the wind.


	9. Chapter 9

**Penny**

Today was shaping up to be a swell day. I’d found the Institute, alright. It was all clean and modern and white, like a fancy bathroom in an upper class hotel. Rich people just loved when everything was white, didn’t they. I’d found my son, too. Surprise, he wasn’t a baby. _Or_ ten years old. He was 60 years old. You could have knocked me over with a feather. I had thought back to Kellog’s words, _‘So he’s a little older than you thought’..._ understatement of the century. My son, my child, was more than twice my age. He had lived in the Institute his entire life, never seeing the surface. It was as alien to him as the surface of the moon.

I really didn’t know what to think about things. Shaun, who I refused to call ‘Father’ - the Institute-ascribed moniker - wanted me to join them in their mighty effort to save mankind. Any time someone - an individual or an organization - drops a line like that on me, I become instantly suspicious. Maybe it’s in my nature. Maybe I learned it from, I don’t know, the entirety of humankind’s history… but I wasn’t about to jump in this pond without first putting on some waders and feeling it out. Shaun told me to take all the time I needed, and invited me to familiarize myself with the staff of the Institute.

I made my rounds. The synth retention department was led by Justin Ayo. He was, to no great surprise, a giant dick. He ranted about suspicions of someone helping synths escape. I thought about Desdemona and the gang and smiled to myself. He also wanted to know how I’d defeated his Courser.

“I challenged him to a game of chess and won. I guess it was too much for him to handle. He totally short-circuited when I called checkmate.”

He wasn’t sure if he should believe me or not, and I stayed in full poker face. Let him twist in the wind and run a dozen or a thousand chess game simulations. Ha. At least the Coursers wouldn’t be bored for a while.

BioScience had delicious snap peas growing, among other crops. I was munching on some when Clayton Holdren greeted me, eyebrows raised at my snack, but didn’t give me any crap about it. Clayton actually seemed like a pretty nice guy. He was enthusiastic about his work and chatted with me while he gave me the tour personally. The gorillas were something to see. Other than the occasional dog, they were the first… sort of normal… looking animals I’d seen since waking. Reading the logs on them was disturbing, though. They were apparently highly violent and had torn up quite a few of their synth handlers. I’m not sure why nobody was alarmed by that, but that’s science for you. Scientists tend to forget about things like danger to humans when they’re busy experimenting.

I found the terminal controlling access to the FEV lab, right where Virgil had told me it would be. I slipped in once Clayton had gone back to his cabbages, _yuck,_ and found the serum. I tucked it in my jacket and hoped I made it out of here without breaking the vial. I didn’t think Virgil would be happy about being stuck as a size 5X jean for the rest of his life.

It turns out Madison Li - the doctor the Brotherhood was so hot to get their hands on - was the leader of Advanced Systems. She was a blunt, no-nonsense type. Those were always my favorite to poke at. I decided against mentioning the Brotherhood just yet. I didn’t know where her loyalties lay, and this was my first day trip into the den of evil. I would bide my time and dig more into her another day. She set up my pip boy with a Courser chip, allowing me to come and go freely. Well, that was nice. I’d save some boot leather.

More than once I eavesdropped on Coursers interrogating terrified synths, threatening to have them wiped if they expressed any deviant behavior. I listened to a doctor testing out medications on a synth subject.

_“Will this hurt, doctor?”_

_“I don’t know. I guess that’s up to you to find out.”_

Big yikes.

I witnessed syths being berated for not cleaning well enough, for being in the way, even the targets of anger over a discontinued food supplement. This was the disappointment I expected to feel, honestly. Human beings had a tendency to want to be masters over something perceived as lesser than them. See: slavery, human trafficking, etc. The synths here were slaves, afforded all the free will and comforts of owned property. That was about when I started realizing there was no way I could let this go on. Not long term. If Preston or Desdemona were here, they would be horrified and rightfully so. 

The best plan would be to assemble all my resources. Minutemen, Brotherhood, Railroad. Maybe find a way to throttle the boys in steel… keep them at a distance so they wouldn’t have a chance to do any damage to undeserving victims. It was a risky idea. Kind of like bringing a fighting dog to a puppy party. I’d have to think that one over at length. I wished I could discuss it with Danse, but I didn’t think I could trust him to give me an unbiased judgement. 

I sat on a bench in the atrium for a time, observing the bustle of Institute people going about their day; munching on the snap peas I’d stuffed my pockets with and tossing the stems over my shoulder. Thinking about the enormity of the decision before me made me feel a little like grabbing a blanket and climbing back into that damn cryo pod. Thaw me when I didn’t have to think about betraying my 60 year old son and dooming the members of the Institute to a life up on the surface. It certainly wouldn’t be a walk in the park for them. Well, the ones that didn’t die fighting me, anyway. Yeesh, this was too much.

I went back to Shaun after I’d spent a solid day observing and taking mental notes. He was determined to get me to see things his way, and asked for my help in reclaiming a rogue synth that had gone full raider and was terrorizing the commonwealth. That was clear cut enough for me. Dragging a harmless synth back against its will? No thanks. Eliminating a raider, synth or not? Sure, count me in. And then Shaun informed me I would have company.

My babysitter’s name was X6-88, and he was a big, tall, scary Courser. I hated that they all wore glasses. I wanted to look people in the eyes when I spoke to them, but Coursers all seemed to be obsessed with wearing dark shades even in dim light. We met up outside of Libertalia, and he was engaged in a firefight with a bunch of raiders holed up in the old buildings there. I hung back and watched. He was all speed and skill, effective and deadly. It wasn’t long before every single raider was dead, and he didn’t look like he’d even broken a sweat. Did Coursers sweat? 

Libertalia was a flotilla, of sorts. The raiders had cobbled together a little community of boats that were still seaworthy, makeshift walkways stretched between them. They even had one that looked like a bar, with lights strung up in it. Cute. It went nicely with the corpses in cages sitting on the dock, picked over by birds.

X6-88 did most of the work. I hung back and let him fire his laser rifle to his heart’s content and picked through raider belongings. 

“X6-88,” I asked as we climbed up wooden ladders leading to the top of the flotilla. “Can I call you Jimmy? It’s easier.”

“If you would prefer it, Ma’am,” he said without inflection.

“Great, thanks Jim-bo. Did you know this synth we’re retrieving?”

“Know him?”

“Yeah, you know, were you friends.”

“We do not make friends, ma’am. Our job is to retrieve synths and observe any errant behavior. I do not think it leaves any room for… friendship.” 

“Yeah, nobody likes a hall monitor.”

“A...hall monitor?”

“It’s fine, Jimmy, don’t worry about it.”

We reached the top, but when I reached for the door, X6-88 interrupted me.

“Ma’am, I am going to give you B5-92’s reset code. If he hears the code phrase, it’ll re set his cognitive processes and make him docile.”

“Uh, alright.”

“You need to say, ‘B5-92, initialize factory reset,’ followed by the authorization code ‘gamma-7-1-epsilon’.”

I scratched my head. “I’ve never shut off a person before. That’s kinda weird.”

“Ma’am, he is not a person. He is stolen property that is malfunctioning.”

“Imagine how divorce rates would improve if it was like this with everyone.”

X6-88 looked confused. I sighed. Nobody ever got my jokes. “Got it. Shall we proceed?”

“After you, ma’am.” If he ma’am’d me one more time I’d start to think it was me that was 60 years old and not my son.

Gabriel was at the very top of the big ship. They had built quite a little platform up here for themselves. He immediately started some speech about honest labor upon seeing us. He was cocky, sure of his position of strength. His goons trained their rifles on us and waited for him to finish showboating. I took one look at the bodies wired to the scaffolding or… worse… stuck on spikes, and said,

“B5-92, initialize factory reset. Authorization code gamma-7-1-epsilon.” 

Gabriel immediately slumped, just as I’d seen my son - or what I thought was my son - slump when Shaun activated his recall code, too. Creeped me out every time.

“Boss…?” one of the goons said. They were frozen in shock. I shot them while they were distracted and had forgotten about me.

“Excellent work, ma’am,” X6-88 said as he came down the steps beside me. “I will relay back to the Institute with B5-92. I am sure Father will be eager for your report.” 

“I’ll catch a ride on the next flight, Jimmy. Later, tater.” He nodded, and was gone with a blue flash - Gabriel in tow. 

I looked around at the carnage. I could see why Shaun wanted me to go on this mission. He wanted me to see how destructive a rogue synth could be. What he was missing was that this wasn’t any different than what human beings did. How many raiders were out there in the commonwealth right now, murdering and looting and robbing? They were human. They had probably all been reasonably decent human beings at one point in their lives, and they went bad. Humans did bad things. Just as synths could. If anything, that fact made synths far more human than machine. It showed they were just as capable of making bad decisions and enjoying things like power and inflicting pain.

Shaun’s sheltered life was showing its effects. He was entirely clueless in the matter of true human nature. He knew what the Institute wanted him to know, chose the pieces of human history that suited him, and lived blindly in his ivory tower. Well I guess technically it was an ivory basement, but you get my drift.

I sighed and clicked over to the teleport function of my pip boy. I needed to have another chat with Madison Li. And then I needed to talk to Preston, the Railroad, and the Brotherhood about where we went from here.

-

“That’s a big fucking robot, Ingram.”

Ingram smiled, looking almost lovingly at the massive helmet and torso of a huge machine before us. “He is the most advanced robot the Brotherhood has ever had in their possession.”

“His memory core is in rough shape,” Dr Li groused from her position on the platform, tapping away at her terminal. “I wish your men had been more careful, Proctor.”

Ingram gave me a sideways look that said, _She’s insufferable, save me,_ but she went on. “We’ve got him mostly pieced back together, but you are going to need to find us a high-powered magnet in order for us to finish working on his new actuators. The old ones were simply far too heavy, and the new design will allow Prime the movement he is going to need. According to Proctor Quinlan, the best place to find one is in an old hospital. Any hospital will do. Look for an MRI, there should be one inside.” 

“So find a big magnet and drag it back here. Roger that.”

Ingram cocked her head and smiled. “That’s what I like about you. Always ready to jump into things.”

“I guess it’s time for my checkup. See you in a bit.” I snapped my fingers, turned on my heel, and headed down the platform. Behind me, Ingram and Dr Li went back to their squabbling. Poor Ingram had her hands full with that micromanaging grump.

“Knight,” I heard a familiar voice as I exited the airport grounds. _God damn it._ I turned to see Danse slow-jogging to catch up to me. He was without his armor, fully geared out in charcoal BDUs instead. I’d thought that was his armor I saw being repaired.

I inclined my head. “Danse.” 

He drew up to a halt beside me. “I would like to accompany you on your mission, if that is alright.” 

“Sure, Danse. I can always use another gun.”

He fell into step with me. I figured we’d head to Mass Bay Medical Center. It was reasonably close, half a day’s walk if we hurried.

“So, why’d you want to come with me? Maxson send you?” I asked once we were well clear of the airport.

“I heard you were talking to Ingram and figured she was sending you on another errand for parts.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, Danse. _Why did you want to come_ ”

He stopped abruptly, and I stopped as well - nearly tripping in the process. He had that look on his face he got sometimes - like he wanted to tell me something and couldn’t.

“Danse, whatever is going on with you, you can talk to me. I hate how things are between us right now. Just… talk to me. Whatever it is, it’s safe with me.” I wanted to shake him, rattle something loose in that stony facade.

“I know,” he said quietly. “It is the way you are. You are always protecting everyone, always offering a shoulder to them.” 

“Of course I do. It’s what you do when you care about people.” 

He chewed his lip, looking at me. I waited. 

“Some weeks ago, when I was on my mission and you were out with Hancock… Elder Maxson pulled me aside and spoke with me. He felt I was...distracted. Losing my focus on the mission. He ordered me to keep things strictly business with you. I should have explained it to you better. I didn’t want to defy my Elder, but... you deserved better than that.”

I tilted my head to better meet his eyes. “And I was the distraction.”

“That is what Elder Maxson believed to be the case.”

“Not what I asked, Danse.”

His eyes flicked away from me. The topic was clearly making him uncomfortable. I was almost enjoying myself. I liked when I made him shifty.

“He was correct in his analysis of the situation,” Danse sounded like he was choking on the words.

“Hmmm. You find me distracting.” A smile was creeping onto my face.

“You are...infuriating.”

“So, Maxy boy told you not to hang out with the _wrong crowd,_ and you obeyed. Just like that.” _Never said I was gonna make it easy on him._

“He is the leader of the Brotherhood. He is a great man, and knows what is best for all of us.” The poor dear was floundering.

“Honey, at some point, you’re going to have to decide if you want to be an individual or part of a hive. Because you’re twilighting in both, and it’s not healthy. I can’t keep scrambling, trying to figure out which Danse is watching my back. Brotherhood Danse or My Danse.”

His eyes rose to my face. “ _Your Danse_?” His voice was soft and low.

“Or Brotherhood Danse.” Oh, crap.

“That’s not what I asked, Penny.” _Ooh, cheap shot, using my line._

My heart was hammering in my ears, and I didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. We faced each other in a standoff, and there was something written on his face. I’d seen it on the airship, wedged into that alcove with him. 

I couldn’t hold out forever. I put a hand on his chest. “You know what, yeah. _My_ Danse.”

His eyes moved down to my hand resting on his tactical vest, then up slowly to my face, searching my expression. Feeling out my issued challenge. There was a clatter as his rifle dropped to the ground. I wondered if beneath all that kevlar, his heart was racing as fast as mine.

I grabbed hold of the shoulder straps of his pack and pulled him down to my level. He let me, a drowning man seeking purchase. I tilted my head to the side and pressed a soft kiss on his lips.

**Danse**

I was in a daze as we cleared the hospital of super mutants. The events prior had not seemed real. Surely I was dreaming again.

For days, I had fought against the urge to find her, go to her, and tell her everything that was in my heart. I had almost succeeded in burying myself in my duties. I had been down at the airport, working on my power armor’s needed repairs, when I had heard two passing scribes talking. 

_“Yeah, that’s her. The one with all the orange hair, talking to Proctor Ingram.”_

My blood had sung at those words, and I knew I was losing the battle. _Elder Maxson forgive me, I have failed you,_ I thought as I watched the silhouette I knew so well disappear through the airport exit. I had to go after her. I didn’t know what I would say, how I would say it, or if I even could say it. What I expected was for her to become angry with me again and send me packing. I did not expect her to pull the words from me like the roots of a tree, or for the kiss that followed. _She_ had kissed _me._

I didn’t know what that meant for me, or us. We were Brotherhood soldiers, and I shuddered at the thought of trying to hide such a thing from Elder Maxson. The man saw and knew everything. This… thing between us, whatever it was, could not continue. It put everything ahead of us in jeopardy. I thought of my dream, of Elder Maxson standing over her as she lay bleeding, dying, and I shivered. It felt like a warning.

We cleared the hospital, floor by floor, searching for the MRI Ingram had mentioned. I watched her in motion - fluid and efficient, a third the size of a super mutant but no less fearsome. They fell before her like she was death itself. After our kiss, she had returned to her usual self around me. She was smiling and laughing and making wack-a-mole jokes as we worked our way through general surgery. She was a complete mad woman, and looking at her, I felt as though my heart were being torn apart and sewn back together over and over..

“You owe me a full update on things, you know,” I said as we opened doors in Radiology, looking for the MRI room. “You went to the Institute. What was it like?”

“My son is a senior citizen,” she replied, putting a round in a ghoul as it rose from behind reception. “And from what I can tell, he wants to replace all people with synthetics. The synths living in the Institute are slaves. They have no say in anything that happens to them.” 

“Abominations,” I ground out through my teeth. _Men playing god and starting the cycle of ending humanity all over again._

“Well, no,” Penny answered, brows raised. “They aren’t abominations. They’re people, too. Just made differently from you or I.”

“Penny, they are a symbol of everything we fight against. Corrupted technology.”

She shrugged and pushed a door open. “Aha, in here. We’re gonna need some tools.”

I stood guard while Penny tore the MRI apart piece by piece. Her nimble mechanic’s fingers worked at an impressive pace.

“Whether they were made in our exact image or not,” she went on, up to her shoulder as she dug around in components, “does not matter. What matters is the here-and-now. They are sentient. They are capable of complex emotions. Just like us, they can be good or bad or neutral. They can be lazy or hard working. Danse, the fact that they fight for their freedom despite all the programming telling them they should be happy with their lot… That’s incredible. That’s a big deal. They deserve to have someone fight for them. Socket wrench, please.”

“For humanity to have a chance, the Institute and its creations must be destroyed.” I sounded like a broken record, even to my own ears.

“What if I was a synth?” she asked, pulling out more wires.

“You are not a synth, so that is irrelevant.”

“You don’t know that. I could be. What if they bodysnatched me the second I left that vault, and the Penny you know and like, the Penny whose life you saved… is a synth? Would it change the way you felt?”

“I am not having this conversation with you.”

“Worried you sucked face with a Barbie doll, Danse?”

I let out an exasperated groan, and she laughed at me. I saw her eyes brighten then, and she slowly extracted the item she sought from the mess of the MRI. 

“Here you go. One big magnet. Got any body piercings we should know about?” She waggled her eyebrows.

“Okay, Penny. You’ve had your fun. Let’s get out of here.”

We took the stairs two at a time, both of us unsettled by the number of skeletons and ghouls covering the beds and the walkways.

On the road back to the airport, I asked, “Do you think the Brotherhood will have what it takes to defeat the Institute?”

“They do with me in the ranks. My plan is to make a huge pot of chili for those elitist bastards and let that do all the work for us.”

I grimaced in horror, and she threw back her head and laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapters will be following along the 'Danse Dilemma' story line. If you are not familiar with it, it is a mod you can install that restores scrapped dialogue and offers an alternative plot line for Danse.
> 
> There are lots of videos of it on youtube, if you want to educate yourself - but be warned it may be spoiler-y if you haven't played it, and is not technically canon to the vanilla game.
> 
> I will also be rewriting the ending a bit, so, expect some of that too. thanks for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

**Danse**

Days passed before Penny sent a summons to meet her in Jamaica Plain. She wouldn’t specify why over the radio, but she told me in her rare serious voice that it was important, and to come alone. I had the vertibird drop me on the outskirts and walked the rest of the way in. Dusk had fallen, and in the fading light I saw many dead ghouls littering the streets - all fresh kills. There were blast marks from grenades and the displaced limbs of ghouls in some places. Penny had been through here, and from the looks of it the ghouls had come out the worse for wear on the visit.

I felt my mouth go dry with concern. What if she had been injured again? Maybe that was why she had called me. No, that didn’t make sense. She had her radio, she could have called any nearby Minutemen for assistance. There was no need to drag me out here for such things. Maybe she had found something of value, something that could aid in our mission? Anxiety built in my chest as I crossed through the empty town. There wasn’t a sound to be heard. 

Then, at the far north end, I saw light. I quickened my pace, rifle at the ready, but as I drew near I could see a figure standing in front of the old house and its adjoining building. It was Penny, and she looked nothing like I’d ever seen before. As I drew close, I could hardly hide my shock. Her hair was braided, wrapped around her head twice in a sort of crown. Little tendrils, carefully picked out, framed her face and curled against her neck. A delicate gold chain was around her neck, gleaming against her collarbones. She was wearing a forest green dress, off-shoulder and flaring out from the waist in a full skirt that fell to mid calf. She was even wearing dainty shoes - white eyelet lace slippers. In all the time we had spent together, I’d never seen her in anything but flannel and jeans - with the exception of occasional body armor over the flannel.

“Penny, you...look different.”

“Yes, dummy, I dressed up.”

“Is this part of the mission?”

“Will you just climb out of your power armor and I’ll show you.” 

I narrowed my eyes at her suspiciously, but I obliged. I was starting to feel seriously under-dressed for whatever the occasion was, in my usual black fatigues and dark gray tee. She flashed a grin at me and grabbed my hand. Was that… lipstick? Was she wearing _lipstick?_ Where had she even found such a thing? Her lips and cheeks were a blushy coral, soft and diffused, and her eyelashes were thick and dark. I was stunned. The impact of the subtle changes was staggering. 

She pulled me towards the big concrete building, where the light was coming from. She opened the door and pulled me inside. 

String lights hung from the ceiling, criss-crossing back and forth across the room, garlanded and just high enough they wouldn’t get caught up in my hair. They cast a soft golden glow over the room. The old wooden floor had been neatly swept and mopped, and it shone in the gold light. Across the room a table stood, with a bottle of wine, two glasses, and hub flowers in a vase beside an old radio.

“What is all this?” I asked, completely lost.

“This, Paladin Danse, is your first dance lesson.” She was still grinning widely. “Now, give me one moment.” 

She crossed to the radio and clicked it on. “I have Travis under strict orders to play only the good stuff tonight. I _may_ have given him a playlist, and banned him from all self-deprecating commentary.” 

The first soft strains of ‘It’s Been a Long, Long Time’ by Kitty Kalen drifted from the radio, and Penny crossed back over to me. She took one of my hands and set it on her waist, and the other she held in hers, about chest level. 

“Now, keep your hand on my waist, you sly dog. I better not feel it slipping.” she laughed at my reddening face. “The key is to relax. Let your body sway as the music sweeps through you. Step with your foot, like this. You’re the gentleman, so you lead. Your body tells my body which way to go.”

I tried to follow her instructions, but I felt stiff and uncomfortable. I wasn’t sure how music was supposed to ‘sweep through me’, exactly. She saw my struggling, and pulled me close. Her body melted into mine. I could feel every muscle, taut against me, moving in perfect rhythm to the music. 

“Ok, big guy,” she said softly. “You follow _my_ lead for now.” Her movements against me helped, and I felt myself uncoiling, loosening, the beat of the music affecting me. She rested her cheek against my chest, her head nestled into my neck. I could feel her warm breath, and it was incredibly distracting. I kept fumbling my feet. We were mostly turning in a small circle as I acclimated to this new experience, and she chuckled into my neck.

“This feels like a middle school dance,” she murmured.

“I’m not sure what that means.”

The sensation of her lips curving into a smile against my skin made me shiver. “That’s ok. It doesn’t matter now.” 

The words of Kitty Kalen floated around us, wrapping around my heart and I held Penny tightly to me. 

_Ah, kiss me once, then kiss me twice_

_Then kiss me once again_

_It's been a long time_

_Haven't felt like this my dear_

_Since I can't remember when_

_It's been a long, long time_

_You'll never know how many dreams_

_I dreamed about you_

Penny’s left hand came up, lazily grazed through my hair from hairline to nape - the contact sending chills down my spine. I should stop this. I knew I should stop it. Elder Maxson’s words were in my ear still, but they were growing farther away - tinny and echoing, as though coming from the bottom of a very deep tunnel. The thrumming of my heart and the honey-sweet words of Kitty Kalen drowned everything else.

“I can see why people like this...ah, dancing.” I said into her hair. I had just realized I was nuzzling her head, breathing in the scent of her. The smell of sun and clean linen and flowers. Her response was non syllabic, a murmur into the hollow of my throat. The song drew to an end, and the next track came on. Doris Day’s ‘Dream a Little Dream.’ Penny pulled back a little at the change, looked up at me.

“I’ve wanted to do this for you since the day we left for CIT,” she said. Her eyes were limpid, her voice husky. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever get the chance, after we parted ways.”

“I will always come back to you. No matter what happens.” _We were never apart, for you were always there in my dreams._

_...Sweet dreams ‘til sunbeams find you_

_Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you_

_But in your dreams whatever they be_

_Dream a little dream of me…_

“I want to believe that, Danse.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but she placed two fingers on my lips, hushing me. The pads of her fingers were warm and soft, like the rest of her. “It’s okay. I’m not asking you to make a choice. Not right now. Let’s not spoil this moment, okay?”

I nodded my acquiescence, and she folded back into me, her hand resuming its motion through my hair. There was a lump in my throat that I felt sure would suffocate me. The feelings surging through my body were not ones I had ever felt in all my life. 

**Penny**

On my next trip to the Institute, X6-88, - or, Jimmy - pounced on me the second I teleported in. He told me Shaun wanted to speak with me. So much for a snack run to BioScience. I made my way up the stairs, feeling quite under dressed. I’d had an incident earlier involving Abernathy Farm and a plow, and we’ll pretend what was all over my boots and jeans was mud and not brahmin dung. Oops, sorry about your pretty white floors, guys. Guess you’ll have to crank out a special floor-cleaning synth to do your bidding.

Shaun was sitting at his desk, and rose when I walked in. I felt his eyes linger on my boots, then my jeans, before coming up to meet my eyes. _Hello disapproval my old friend, I’ve come to walk mud on your floors again._

“Tell me, mother,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back. “What would you do if something was stolen from you?” 

_Oh shit he knows about all the snap peas..._ “I guess it would depend on what was stolen,” I said carefully.

“I have received word that the _Railroad_ ,” he spat the word out, “is in possession of several Institute synths. They are being kept at Bunker Hill. I want _you_ to go retrieve them.”

_I wish this was about peas now._ “Oh, gee, you want me to do it? Jimmy seems more up to that kind of task.”

“I’m sorry... Jimmy?” 

“You know, X6-88. Isn’t that his job? Dragging synths back home?”

“I am assigning this task to you. You will have support there. You will rendezvous outside of Bunker Hill with one of our Coursers, and together, locate and retrieve the lost property.”

At that moment, I heard the conversation I’d caught on my first day in the Institute in my head. ... _Doctor, will this hurt?...I guess that is up to you to find out._

Oh, hell. This wasn’t going to go well at all. “Sure thing, I’ll head over there and get it...sorted out.”

He nodded approvingly. “Excellent. The sooner they are back where they belong, the better. We cannot risk anyone getting their hands on Institute technology.”

You better believe I teleported to the Railroad as fast as I could. I might be a shit cook, but I was _not_ a shit person, and there was no way I was going to drag those poor people back to their jailer. 

“The Institute knows about Bunker Hill,” I yelled as I barged into the Railroad headquarters. “They’re planning to recapture the synths you’re keeping there.” Everyone froze in their tasks. Desdemona looked up from a map she was studying.

“Damn. The timing couldn’t be worse. The Old Man’s been sitting on those four synths. We just haven’t had anywhere else we could hide them. Maintaining your cover is vital, but...This sacrifice is just too great.” she tossed her spent cigarette in a tin can.

“They are depending on us,” I said. “We’ve got to get down there and do something.”

She nodded. “We’ve never known when and where the Institute would strike next. This chance to turn the tables is...unprecedented. We are going to hit them _hard._ Nobody the Institute sends out comes back alive. Understand?”

“Okay. I’m going to have a... Uh… _escort_ with me. They are sending a Courser along.” Desdemona’s eyes widened in alarm. I held my hands up. “It’s fine, I’ve got it. I can take the Courser. You just worry about the rest of the party.”

“Let’s get it done,” Desdemona’s eyes shone as she lit another cigarette.

Before heading to Bunker Hill, I also radioed in a warning to the Brotherhood. It couldn’t hurt to have a bunch of Knights and Paladins in armor providing backup. Especially if the Institute was sending an army of synths.

I found my new Courser buddy just outside of Bunker Hill, waiting impatiently. Upon seeing me, he commented,

“I’ve been _waiting_ for you.” I didn’t miss the reproach in his tone.

“Sorry about that, had some groceries to pick up.”

“Our targets are inside,” He went on. “Four synths under Railroad protection. Majority of the settlement is uninvolved and are expected to run for cover. We go in, retrieve the synths, and I relay them back to the Institute. Father has requested that after the operation you meet him atop the CIT ruins.”

“Great,” I said, racking my shotgun. “Let’s go.”

I put a slug in his brainstem as soon as he took the lead. “Sorry buddy, not today,” I said as I stepped over him. High overhead, I heard vertibirds approaching. The cavalry was here.

I ran through the Bunker Hill basement. Since all sides were technically on my side, I wasn’t a target - but that didn’t mean I wasn’t running through a battlefield of laser fire and bullets. I had to do some creative ducking and rolling a few times. My old yoga instructor would have shed a tear of pride if she had been there. Synths appeared, wave after wave, flashes of blue light everywhere they teleported in. I kept running. 

I found the synths at the very bottom of the basement, huddled in fear in the corner. 

“Please!” one of them cried, “Please, we can’t go back there!” 

“That will only happen if you don’t help me unblock this elevator,” I said, dragging a pallet away from in front of the doors. The four synths immediately pitched in, dragging away the barrels and bricks and other trash that had been piled up and blocked the elevator. Once it was clear, I forced the doors open and stepped inside. I pulled the electrical panel off and began to dig around in the wiring.

“Please tell me there are some pliers down here somewhere,” I said. 

One of the synths went and rummaged around in the boxes piled around the room. She came back, pliers clutched in her hand. I took them and continued my work. At some point, the elevator had shorted out and was nonfunctional. There was power, though, so if I could bypass the short… we could get this thing working and make it to the surface. No way was I going to take four unarmed synths through the chaos I’d just barely cleared.

The lights in the elevator flickered. Woops, not that wire. I tinkered some more, and at last, the buttons on the dangling panel lit up. 

“Jackpot!” I whooped. “All aboard! Hurry!” The synths crowded around me and I hit the button. There was a confirming _ding_ , and the elevator rose to the surface. At the top, I told them to hang back for a second, and popped my head out. The firefight was dying down - the synths finally pulling back under the onslaught of the Brotherhood and Railroad heavies. I waved down a Railroader. 

“Get these people to safety,” I ordered. “I don’t care where, just anywhere but here.” 

“Follow me!” The heavy waved the synths after him, and they disappeared through the wooden fence behind him. 

Well, that took care of that. Time to pay the piper, as it were. 

-

“Would you care to explain to me what went wrong down there?” Shaun was looking down at Bunker Hill from the very top of the CIT ruins. Smoke still rose in the air from the burning fence and abandoned cars that had caught shrapnel. 

“I made a choice, Shaun. I let them go.”

He turned on me, his face furious. “Why? How could you do something so… _stupid_?”

I folded my arms. “It was the right thing to do.”

“There is no _moral_ choice to be made here,” Shaun ground out. “This was such a simple task. I just don’t understand. I _know_ you’re capable of handling yourself. How can I expect you to represent the Institute if this sort of thing continues?”

“Of course there is a moral choice to be made here. You wanted me to force those synths back into their captivity. I could never do such a thing. You know, son,” my voice was rising. “You may actually be _completely_ crazy.” 

“Well, I suppose that makes your position quite clear, doesn’t it. I had hoped...we could be something like a family again. That you’d share in the Institute’s vision for the future.” He turned and looked back over burning Bunker Hill. “I’m afraid there’s no room for sentimentality, mother. You are either with us or against us.I hope...I hope you can find some amount of peace.”

“I dreamed of you as an adult...for so long.” My voice was breaking, and I couldn’t control the waver in it. “Here you are...and I am so disappointed.”

Shaun turned his head to stare at me, arch and cold. “Goodbye... _mother._ ” And then he was gone in a flash of blue light.

I sat down on the roof, drew my knees to my chest, and wept. 

-

“Are you ready for this?” I asked Danse, sitting cross-legged on the ground and cleaning my rifle. He stole a glance nervously at the bubbling stew pot on the fire..

“I...Need to report back for...writing a report thing.”

“Danse. I am not talking about _that_.” his eyes flicked from the stew pot to me, and I let out an exasperated sigh. “First of all, it’s just vegetable stew. Nothing can go wrong. Second of all, I am talking about the whole lets-hunt-bombs-in-the-glowing-sea mission we are currently on.”

I was going to pretend I didn’t see the relief flood his face when he realized he wasn’t being invited to dinner. 

“I suppose as ready as we can be,” he said. “Which reminds me. I have something for you. Well, a couple things.” He jumped at my gleeful clap.

“I _love_ presents.”

“It’s not really a present,” he fumbled. 

“I’ll take what I can get.”

He reached into his pack, rummaged for something, and drew out something made of silvery fabric.

“It’s a biohazard suit. Top quality. I know you don’t love power armor, but...we are going back into the glowing sea. You will need proper protection from the rads we are going to run into out there.” 

“Danse, you really know how to talk a girl out of her britches.” 

His cheeks went pink at that, and he tossed the suit at me, the silvery fabric hitting me in the face while I laughed gleefully. 

I stirred the bubbling stew and he watched me, quiet.

“Well, what’s the other thing?” I asked.

“Other thing?”

“You said you had a couple things for me. You gave me one.” 

He looked embarrassed, dark lashes shuttering over his eyes as he looked at his feet for a moment. “Now that I think about it, it’s probably not a good idea.”

“Danse, I’ll make you eat this stew if you don’t tell me.”

His eyes flashed back up to me, and I grinned wickedly. He sighed, the exasperated exhalation I’d come to love inciting from him. 

“Very well. Come here.”

“Danse. Are you going to put my suit on for me? Is that the final present?”

“I will drag you over here by your ear if you don’t get a move on.”

I groaned, rolled my eyes, and set my rifle to the side before getting up and walking over to his side of the fire. I plopped down next to him. 

“Here I am, boss.” 

He shifted, until his knees were touching mine. The electricity that always accompanied his touch jolted through my body. He reached up, pulled the chain with his holotags out of his collar and up over his head. With both hands, he slid the chain over my head. The chain was too long for my much more slender neck, and the tags hung down to the underside of my breasts. I raised my eyebrows, my eyes questioning.

“Why are you giving me your tags?” I asked softly.

“They are for luck,” he replied. There was emotion in his voice, but I couldn't decide what kind. He was being deliberately enigmatic. Typical Danse.

“Danse, if you are dying of radiation poisoning or something, there are better ways to tell me.”

He shook his head. “No, I mean it. They are for luck. As long as you are wearing them, I will be there with you. We will just pretend I lost them if anyone asks.”

I reached up, my fingers turning the tags over. They were still warm from resting against his skin. “Okay, fine, be cryptic. I will wear them if that is what you really want me to do. As for your first time giving a woman jewelry, you get a solid 5/10.”

His eyes were on my fingers as they toyed with the tags. He was far away, eyes stormy. I touched his chin, brought his face up to mine.

“Hey, soldier boy, come back to me.” 

His dark eyes rose to meet mine. 

“Are you okay? Really and truly?” I couldn’t help but feel concerned as I looked at him. Something was off again, but it wasn’t the usual re-indoctrinated vibe he was putting off tonight. This was different. 

A smile touched his lips, but didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, I’m okay.” 

“Okay.”

“...Penny?” he asked after a moment.

“Yes, Danse.”

“Why did you kiss me?”

“Hmm, still thinking about that, huh?”

“Hard not to think about something like that.”

“Why do people normally kiss someone?”

“I guess to...show affection, or love.”

I cocked my head to one side, looking at him. “You’re kinda thick, sometimes, Danse. I don’t put a dress on for just anyone.” I was keeping my poker face, but good lord, my heart was going a mile a minute just now.

He looked stunned. “You were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen that night,” he said solemnly. He reached up, cupping either side of my face in his big, warm hands. My heart was a runaway stagecoach. He closed the distance between us and kissed me, slow and sweet and deliberate. There was a hesitancy in his touch, as though he wanted this more than anything in the world but feared it, too. I kissed him back, meeting his mellow pace with something more frenetic, more passionate. There was a little voice in the back of my head asking, _Why does this feel like a goodbye kiss instead of a hello kiss?_

**Danse**

I watched Penny climb up another hill, grabbing for handholds on the steep slope - a shining slip of silver in her new suit. Each step she took brought us closer to the end. Well, the end for me. The beginning for her. She’d receive a promotion after all this was said and done. I would be damned if I didn’t see her as far as I could in her mission. The clock was ticking for me, now. Haylen had pulled me aside as I left for the mission, and had warned me about the information we’d gotten from Sturges’ holotape. My DNA matched that of a synth who had escaped from the Institute. The evidence was indisputable. I, Paladin Danse, soldier of the Brotherhood of Steel, was a synth.

I had given years of my life to the Brotherhood. I had championed their cause, fought and bled for them. I had come to the commonwealth ready to fight the Institute and die for the Brotherhood. The discovery that I was the very thing we despised...a synth...had been almost too much to bear. Clearly Maxson had not issued a command to bring me back, not yet. My guess was he wanted to wait until Penny had secured the package as ordered, lest her reaction to my death affect the mission. I wondered what she would do when she found out. Scream, cry? Shoot me? Would she look down the barrel of one of her beloved pistols and pull the trigger without blinking?

As soldiers went, she was fearless. Her dedication was a bit...lacking, though. She had always had one foot out the door with the Brotherhood. She followed the orders she chose to follow. I should not have let her involve herself with me. I had been weak, I had let her get too close. And I...I loved her. I’d loved her for so long I couldn’t place the moment it began. She had already lost her husband, was facing losing her son, and now she would lose me - possibly by her own hand. I had never regretted disobeying an order so much in my life. I had poured sand into the oil. Any pain that she was to feel before her now was entirely my fault. I was to blame. The thought of causing her pain took the air out of my lungs.

I would get her to the silo. I would ensure the Brotherhood’s victory over the Institute. And then, when it was my time... I would die with dignity. A synth, yes, but still a soldier of the Brotherhood until the end.

“Danse!” I heard her shout. “I think I see it!” She was at the top of the hill, waving down at me, pointing at something in the distance. I trudged up the hill after her. There, on the horizon, was a massive building shaped somewhat like a pyramid. 

“Let’s go find our boom-booms!” she skipped towards the building, rifle swinging on her back. I sighed and followed after her towards my doom.

The silo was on a launch sequence lockdown, all these years after the bombs fell. We made our way through the halls until Penny located the terminal to shut off the sequence. From there, we found the tunnels leading down into the belly of the silo. Ghouls - so many of them - came from everywhere. The walls, under the hung walkways, from flooded areas. It seemed the entirety of the soldiers stationed here had been left to their fate, becoming feral ghouls over the years. The tunnels were narrow, and I found myself having to bend in my power armor, lest I keep hitting my head on the ceiling. Penny, fast and light, seemed completely unbothered - leading the way by the light of her pip boy.

We finally reached a room with a great steel door. This was it, had to be. A door like that only guarded things not meant for outside hands. Penny pointed at me.

“Stay here, I’m gonna check it out.” and she went up the steps to the left of the great door, and went in through a smaller door. I waited. I could hear voices - she was talking to someone. Then the great door began to shudder open, rust and years of dust making it groan something terrible. But open, it did. Penny came hopping down the steps and rushed back to me. 

“Someone...a Child of Atom... was guarding the place. I had to convince him we were as crazy as he is.” She grinned up at me through her bubble helmet and twirled a finger by her ear.

“Better place the beacon,” I told her, grateful for my helmet. It hid what I am sure was palpable distress on my face. This was the end, and I would never see her again. I thought about an old story I had read, back in the Citadel… it was about a man named Icarus. His father had made himself and his son wings of feather and wax, to escape their city. Icarus’ father warned him not to fly too high to the sun. Icarus did not listen, and he flew too high. The sun melted the wax, and poor Icarus plummeted to his death in the sea.

I felt like Icarus. I had flown too close to the sun - my Penny - and now the tumble into dark waters was near.

Penny placed the beacon on an old landmover, activating the pulse before coming back over to me. “All set? Shall we go back to our fearless leader with the good news?”

“I am to stay here until the others arrive to claim the stockpile,” I lied. “I will see you back on the Prydwen later.”

She looked up at me, and there was suspicion in her eyes. Maybe something in my tone had tipped her off. With my helmet on, she could not scrutinize my expression, and I saw her decide to leave it alone. She gave a little shrug. I watched her reach up briefly to touch her chest thoughtfully, where I knew my holotags lay. 

“Okay, big guy. I’ll see you back on the ship.” 

I watched her go. I watched her climb up on the lift that would take her back up to the surface, and I whispered to myself inside my suit of power armor, where nobody could hear me…

_“I love you, Penny Cohen. I’ll always be with you, wherever you go.”_

-

Listening Post Bravo was empty, quiet. The first thing I did was wire the turrets back up and hacked the terminal for the dormant Protectrons. If Elder Maxson was going to send someone after me, I could give them some resistance at least. The right thing to do would be to turn myself in, let the Brotherhood do as it would with me. I was a living abomination and must be put down. I thought about it, but I could not bring myself to do it. I thought of Penny, of life without her, and I just...couldn’t make my feet move. So, I had come here - a fallback point I’d long ago discussed with my team. As far as I knew, only Haylen and Rhys were aware of this place. Whatever they knew now, whatever I was to them - I had some small faith in them keeping their silence. They were good soldiers, loyal. 

I went through the post, checking drawers and analyzing the current situation. At some point, I would need to locate more supplies. The items that remained after scavvers had missed while they picked over the place would not last me long. A week at most. Maybe that would be enough time for the manhunt to cool down a little. I set up a bed for myself, did my best to make things comfortable, and resigned myself to my new - and short - life. Two days passed, and all was quiet. Until I heard the _ding_ of the elevator as it opened on my floor.

The protectrons and turrets fired on the intruders, but fell under a barrage of bullets and a grenade. I flinched at the shockwave from the blast, but made no move to arm myself. They were here for me, and I was ready. I found myself hoping they would give me an honorable death - remembering me in the end as a loyal soldier of the Brotherhood, synth or not.

A shadow loomed in the doorway, and I turned to face it, shoulders squared and my chin held high. Penny stepped forward, into the dim light - her auburn hair cascading over her shoulders, her face shadowed. She looked at me with _such pain_ in her eyes. I felt guilt flood my body. I had done this, I had made her feel this way.

“I’m not surprised Maxson sent you,” I said with a heavy heart. “He never did like to do the dirty work himself.”

“Why didn’t you _tell_ me?” she demanded. “I had to hear the news from _Maxson_ , of all people. I should have heard it from _you._ ” A tear jeweled the lashes of one eye, before it trembled and fell, tracing its way down her cheek. 

“I didn’t know, not until Quinlan got that list decoded and Haylen warned me. If it weren’t for Haylen...you and I wouldn’t even be having this conversation. I’d already be dead. What orders did Maxson give you? Does he even want me alive?”

She shook her head, despair written all over her face. “No. But I’m hoping there’s a way out of this.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said as gently as I could. “Look, I’m not...blind to the fact there is something between us. That I mean something to you. I know how difficult this must be for you. I wish Maxson had sent someone else. But that doesn’t change a thing. I’m a synth, which means I need to be destroyed. If you disobey those orders, you are not only betraying Maxson...but also Brotherhood of Steel, and everything it stands for. Synths can’t be trusted. They were never meant to make their own decisions. They need to be _controlled._ Technology that has run amok is what brought the world to its knees, and humanity to the brink of extinction. Penny, don’t you see? I need to be the example, not the exception.”

“Oh, Danse. Listen to yourself. Can’t you see the empathy you’re showing me right now is the very thing that makes you as human as I or anyone else?”

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” I said firmly, “But I have made my decision. I’m ready to accept the consequences of my true identity. Maxson has ordered you to execute me, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to stand in your way.”

“I can’t do that,” she balked. Another tear, and then another, slid down her cheeks.”There has to be another way.”

I stepped forward, taking her chin in my hand - coaxing her to look at me. “We both know it is the right thing to do. If you refuse to carry out these orders, you are undermining everything the Brotherhood stands for. I can’t allow that to happen on my account.”

“And I can’t let you die. I won’t do this. I won’t allow this.”

“You would risk your life for me? Why?” I’d expected her to be reluctant. I knew we had grown close - too close - but I did not anticipate her outright refusing her duty.

“Because, you big dumb ape,” she said softly, her eyes glowing. “I love you.”

“You...love me?” I said stupidly. They were words I had never heard from anyone, in all my life. Hearing it from her - from Penny - it was as though an atom bomb had gone off in my chest. She threw her arms around me, squeezing me hard enough I worried about her popping a rib.

“I _told_ you, you were thick sometimes,” her voice was tender despite the jab.

My arms came up to encircle her reflexively. “How could I have been so blind? I should...consider how my death might affect the people who care about me.” 

“That’s part of being human. It’s not just about you, or survival. It’s about those you stand to lose, to leave behind.”

“What’s our next step?” I murmured into her hair.

She leaned back to look at me. “I think you should return to the Brotherhood.”

I raised my brows. 

“I suppose.... When Haylen warned me about Quinlan's discovery, she begged me to confront Maxson. She told me there were Brotherhood soldiers that still believed in me. That they would stand behind me if I challenged his authority. At the time, I told her that it wouldn't be right to cause a rift in our ranks. We're on the brink of war with the Institute. And weakening our unity felt like I'd be... backstabbing my own troops.” I caressed her face, and she leaned into the touch. 

“But knowing you're still with me, maybe that'll be enough to convince Maxson that he's making a mistake. I'll come back to the Prydwen with you, and we will confront Maxon together. Right now, I'm not sure we can even get near Maxson before the Brotherhood would cut us down, but we have to try. I've known Maxson for a long time. And under all that protocol is a decent man. Just prepare yourself. I don't know what Maxson will have in store when we arrive."

She took my hands in her own, gave them a reassuring squeeze.

“Then let’s go. I’ll have your back.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept the full dialogue from Maxson during Blind Betrayal confrontation. I think that part was so well written. I added a couple snippets of my own. Forgive the rehash, but this moment is just so powerful in the game and I love it.  
> -

**Penny**

We didn’t get the chance to head back to the Prydwen. As we exited the elevator, I could hear the chopping rotors of a vertibird as it landed somewhere close.

“Uh oh spaghetti-os,” I said, gripping my rifle at the ready.

“They must have followed you,” Danse said under his breath. “If it comes to a firefight… please don’t stand in the way. I don’t want you getting hurt, or worse, on my account.”

“I’ll do as I please, thank you very much.” 

He frowned and gave me a _look,_ but by now he knew being a bossy britches with me never worked out in his favor.

He went through the door first, shouldering me out of the way. Always the gentleman, Danse. I saw why, then. Maxson was striding towards us down the hill from the landing pad, his brow screwed up in a rage. He was armed. Maxson caught sight of me behind Danse, and bellowed.

“How _dare_ you betray the Brotherhood!” 

Danse reached an arm out, stopping me from moving around him, shielding me.

“It’s not her fault, it’s mine.” His voice was firm, commanding.

Arthur spun towards him, jabbing a finger in Danse’s direction. “I’ll _deal_ with you in a moment.” Then he turned back to me. “Why has this… _thing..._ not been destroyed?”

“You mean why haven’t I _murdered_ him? He’s still alive because you’re wrong about him, Arthur.”

His eyes flashed at my casual use of his name. “Danse isn’t a man, _it_ is a machine. An automaton created by the Institute. It wasn’t born from the womb of a loving mother, it was _grown_ within the cold confines of a laboratory. Flesh is flesh, machine is machine. _The two were never meant to intertwine.”_

He began to pace as he worked himself up into a full froth. “By attempting to play god, the Institute has taken the sanctity of human life and corrupted it beyond all measure.”

Danse stepped forward, holding up his hand to halt Maxson’s rant. There was anger in his face. Good. I wanted him to feel the fire to fight for his right to exist.

“After all I’ve done for the Brotherhood, all the blood I’ve spilled in our name... How can you say that about me?”

Maxson growled. “You’re the physical embodiment of _everything_ we hate most. Technology that’s gone too far. _Look around you,_ Danse. Look at the scorched earth and the bones that litter the wasteland. Millions, perhaps even billions, died because science outpaced man’s restraint. They called it a _new frontier_ , and pushed the envelope... completely disregarding the possible repercussions. Can’t you see the same thing is happening again? You’re a single bomb in an arsenal of thousands, preparing to lay waste to what’s left of mankind.”

“You think Danse is out to destroy mankind? He’s done nothing but champion your cause, bud. He’s been your most dedicated soldier.” I was getting a little tired of Maxson’s evangelical diatribe.

“You’re as delusional as you are _insubordinate_ ,” Maxson snarled. “How can you trust the word of a machine that thinks it’s alive? A machine that’s had it’s _mind_ erased, it’s thoughts _programmed_ , it’s very _soul_ manufactured? Those… _ethics_ … it’s striving to champion aren’t even it’s own. They were artificially inserted in an attempt to have it blend into society.” 

I was wound tight, and Danse sensed it. He kept his body between me and Maxson.

“It’s true. I was built within the confines of a laboratory, and some of my memories I have aren’t my own. But when I saw my brothers dying at my feet, I felt sorrow. When I defeated an enemy of the Brotherhood, I felt pride. When I heard your speech about saving the commonwealth...I felt hope. “ He turned to me, sliding his arm around me and pulling me to him. 

“And I felt...I _feel_ ... love. Don’t you see, Arthur? I thought I was _human_. From the moment I was taken in by the Brotherhood, I’ve done absolutely nothing to betray your trust, and I never will.” 

Whew. Good thing he was holding me upright because my legs about turned to jelly at those words.

Maxson’s scowl deepened as he took in the words, observed the contact between us. 

“It’s too late for that now. The Institute has foolishly chosen to grant you life. You simply should not exist. _I don’t intend to debate this any longer_. My orders stand.”

I felt Danse pull away from me, and look down at me - love and kindness and understanding radiating from his gaze.

“It’s alright,” he said softly, heavily. “We did our best. You convinced me I was wrong to be ashamed of my true identity. Thank you for that. Thank you for...everything. Whatever you decide, know that I’m going to my grave with no anger, no regrets. The time I had with you was worth it all. ” 

Even now, after everything, he was giving me an out. Giving me a choice to stick with the Brotherhood. I could strangle him.

“Touching,” Maxson snapped. “Either you execute Danse, or I will. The choice is yours.” 

I stepped in front of Danse, shoulders back, chin high. My finger tightened around the trigger. 

_“Over my dead body.”_ If he was going to shoot Danse, he’d have to shoot me first.

“I see you’ve made your decision, _Knight.”_ The title was an epithet, the way he delivered it. His rifle rose to meet mine. “How very disappointing. How _dare_ you betray the Brotherhood. How dare you betray _me_.”

The muzzle rose, and I raised my rifle quickly, but the first shot went askew as Danse shoved the gun to the side suddenly. His other arm was outstretched towards Maxson, fingers splayed, the universal sign of _stop._

His voice boomed across the distance. “As a Brotherhood of Steel Paladin, I’m issuing a formal challenge against your authority as Elder. We will settle this matter as it was written in the Litany. In combat, we will settle this.”

Maxson let his barrel drop. His face was shocked, even...hurt. He clearly had not expected Danse to take a stand against him. 

“Then you leave me no choice. I will return to the Prydwen and make the preparations.”

He abruptly turned on his heel and marched off towards the vertibird.

“See,” Danse said, lowering his arm. “Underneath, he is a decent man. He honored the challenge, despite his anger.”

“You might like him,” I grumbled, “But _I_ think he’s a shithead.”

“Penny. He is a good man, and a great leader.”

“ _So are you_ ,” I said quietly. 

“Come with me?” His eyes were troubled, but tender when they looked at me.

“Did you think my presence was optional?” I rolled my eyes at him. He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with affection. 

Once we had boarded the Prydwen again, we were sent to consult with Trevor Bowser - Chairman of the Brotherhood Military Court. He was responsible for running the Brotherhood’s jurisdiction, and being an expert on the Litany as it was written. He explained that as per the Litany, the Elder is to choose the arena for the duel. Maxson had already chosen his - the basement of Fort Strong. I remembered the place. We’d cleared it of super mutants months ago.

“You are not to involve yourself in the battle,” Bowser said severely. “You will hand over all weapons before entering the arena. Your duty is only to witness the outcome, whatever it may be. If the Elder triumphs over this... _machine_ , you must accept his right to rule over the Brotherhood and all in it.” 

“Understood.”

“Excellent. If there are no further questions, then you may head to the arena.”

As we stepped out of the Prydwen and back onto the flight deck, Danse caught my arm. I turned to him, questioning.

“Penny,” his voice was serious. “I think maybe you shouldn’t come with me to the battle.”

“You must be crackers if you think I’m not going.”

“If I lose...and I very well may lose...Maxson will remain Elder. He will kill you the second he emerges triumphant. He will not tolerate your betrayal if he keeps his title.”

“Danse, if you fall at the hands of that man, there is no way I will let him live.”

His brows knit together in disappointment. “You can’t do that, Penny. You would compromise the future of the entire order for revenge. You need to leave, now. Go somewhere safe and wait for word. _Please_.”

“I’m going,” I bared my teeth in a grin. “Don’t worry about me. I will figure something out. Whatever comes. I always do. Okay?” 

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. “I sometimes suspect you get no small measure of enjoyment out of distressing me.”

“Danse, sweetie pie, it’s my favorite hobby.” 

-

Fort Strong was fully populated by the Brotherhood. Apparently they had moved in a contingent after we’d cleared it and freed the arsenal from super mutant clutches. Made sense, really, it was a solid fortress. Better than Cambridge. As we passed through the bustle of activity, the soldiers regarded us in silence. I wondered how they felt about things. Were they on Maxson’s side, or did they support Danse?

The elevator took us down to the basement level. Several Knights, scribes, and even a squire waited for us in an antechamber of sorts. I was instructed to place all my weapons on a table, and then an apologetic scribe frisked me to ensure I had no other weapons on my body. Danse was surprisingly calm, resigned. He was ready for the fight. I couldn't imagine how hard this was for him - going into battle with a man he had idolized, considered a friend and mentor. Going against the leader of an organization he believed in. After I was cleared, together we walked to the door leading out into the maintenance tunnels.

“Ready?” He turned to look at me.

I nodded my affirmative.

His eyes softened, and abruptly he pulled me in for one last - or so it felt - kiss. I was stunned at the display of affection in a room full of his brothers and sisters of steel, but for once there was no shyness about him. He had nothing to lose anymore, I supposed. I kissed him back with a matching ferocity, and then he pulled away from me and pushed open the steel door. 

The tunnels were rife with feral ghouls. I had to hang far back and let Danse handle them. I hadn’t been without a weapon since the day I crawled out of that vault, and to be unarmed and defenseless like this was deeply unsettling. I supposed if it came to it I could try to punch a feral ghoul to death. I might have enough rage in me to do it. Maxson’s words, cutting down and dehumanizing Danse, still swirled in my mind. Danse might have some kind of connection or attachment to Maxson, but I sure as hell didn’t. This entire journey with the brotherhood had only begun because of my faith in _Danse_ as a person. Maxson was an unpleasant part of a two for one deal.

A series of twists, turns, and stairs eventually led us to a much larger room - all stone, with a dirt floor and large irrigation pipe running through it. Danse entered first, and let out a shout as he dove behind a pillar. Laser fire exploded all around him. I barely managed to stop in time as laser fire tore into the wall I was about to clear. Pieces of the brick went flying like shrapnel as the lasers tore into the wall right before me. I leaped back, watching as Danse reoriented and returned fire. These Brotherhood boys didn’t beat around the bush at all, did they?

I watched the battle unfold with my heart in my throat. If Danse fell, I would not stand by. I would not accept Maxson as my leader, nor my executioner. I might alienate the entire Brotherhood, and have to fight my way out of this fort - but without a different, better leader - maybe that was for the better. The Brotherhood, un-tempered, would slaughter every synth they got their hands on... Enemy of the commonwealth or not. With Danse leading them, there was hope for a more peaceful solution. I believed wholeheartedly that Danse would not follow in the bloodthirsty path Elder Maxson had laid out for the order. He was the better man. There was more to being deserving of a title than killing a deathclaw. By that logic, I should be world leader at this point. Penny, high queen of earth. _Snort._

Danse was holding his own, despite being pinned down in a corner and Maxson being allowed a full suit of power armor. How was that fair? I guess if you were Elder you could cheat without impunity. I prayed the armor plating of Danse’s BDUs would be enough to absorb the barrage of laser fire. His patience was slowly winning the war - I heard the clank of Maxson’s armor breaking, heard his shouted curse. Danse pushed forward, then, coming out from behind his pillar while Maxson fought against his locked up suit. He threw everything he had at Maxson in a merciless assault. There was a loud crash as something heavy fell. I finally dared to peek around the corner. 

Danse stood over the collapsed suit of power armor, chest heaving. The figure that was Maxson lay still. I carefully walked down the steps to the dirt floor, crossing to Danse’s side. Maxson’s eyes stared up at the ceiling, unseeing - death clouding over the life they once held. Blood seeped into the dark earth beneath him, a creeping spill that drew near the toes of my boots. I took a step back, unsettled. Danse stayed where he was, silent, looking down at Maxson’s still face. I reached out, rested my hand on his shoulder.

“It took a hell of a lot of guts to stand up to Maxson like you did,” my voice was just above a whisper. 

He did not turn to look at me, but reached up and covered my hand with his own.

“It is done, now. I do not know what the future will look like for me, or for the Brotherhood. All I can promise is I will be by your side, every step of the way. I hope that’s enough to convince you to take the place of Elder of the Brotherhood.”

“ _What_?” I all but yelped. “Oh, no. No way. This was never something I truly believed in. You’re the one who has dedicated your heart and soul to the Brotherhood. There is nobody more suited to it than you.” 

“I don’t know if they will follow me,” doubt weighed heavily on him. “I am a synth. I am a symbol of everything they stand against.”

“You were one of them first and foremost. They know you, trust you, have served with you and seen the man you are. They will accept you, Danse. I know they will.”

His hand tightened, squeezing mine in his own.

“You have so much faith in me. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve it.”

“That is exactly why you are the right man for the job.”

We walked back through the labyrinth. When we came out in the antechamber again, there was only a moment of silence before every soldier in the room saluted as one, shouting ‘ _Ad Victoriam_!’ in unison. The effect gave me gooseflesh. Danse’s eyes gleamed, and I saw relief and pride there. Until that moment, I think he had truly expected to be mowed down with gunfire despite the terms of the Litany. Danse waved a knight over, and asked that they send out the summons for an address back aboard the Prydwen. The Knight saluted and immediately got on the air to send out the summons.

The ride back to the Prydwen was silent. Danse had a lot on his mind to deal with and words to shape for his address. I was content to dangle my legs out the side of the vertibird and enjoy the wind whipping through my hair. If the crew rebelled… if there was a mutiny...I would be ready to defend him with my dying breath.

The crew was waiting on the command deck when we landed. As Danse strode past them, strength and purpose in the lines of his shoulders and his stride, I gave Quinlan a little smirk and a wink. His thin lips were drawn tight, his beady eyes narrowed, but he held his peace. Oh, rubbing this in his face would bring me joy for weeks to come. I’d very nearly decked him when he had snidely commented he would not miss Danse any more than he would miss a toaster. _Well, buddy, my toaster is your new leader. Go suck eggs._ Haylen was there, trying and failing to keep the sheen of tears from her eyes. She caught my eye and flashed me a grateful and happy smile, which I returned. Between the two of us, we had helped save Danse from his unjust fate. Danse had done the rest.

Danse stood with his back to the viewing windows, his hands clasped behind him, feet shoulder width apart. He was imposing, leadership falling about him naturally like a tailored cloak.

“I wish to make one thing clear,” he began once everyone was standing at attention. “This body might be synthetic, but my heart and mind belong to the Brotherhood. The Institute is still a tremendous threat to the commonwealth. They possess technologies that must be confiscated or destroyed. If that means I must pull the trigger on my own kind, then it is a sacrifice I am willing to make for the good of the commonwealth.”

His eyes fell on Quinlan, on Kells, then on me briefly. My heart thudded in my chest as I looked at him. He was so damn handsome when he was this confident.

“The terms of the Litany are clear. The Brotherhood has a new Elder. Only a single question remains...Will the rest of you fall in line?”

Haylen clapped her fist to her chest. “Ad Victoriam, Elder Danse!”

“ _Ad Victoriam, Elder Danse!_ ” the rest of the crew shouted, fists to hearts. 

Danse nodded, a short, decisive movement of his head.

“Scribe Haylen, you are to go to Cambridge and verify our site is secure. The rest of you are dismissed. We will meet to discuss the battle plan at o-six-hundred tomorrow.”

Another salute, and the crew quickly filtered out of the viewing room. Only Danse and I remained, standing before the large windows and looking out at the twinkling lights of the commonwealth. He leaned on the handrail, eyes thoughtful. I rested my hip against it casually, waiting for him to speak.

“You risked everything for me. _Everything._ ” His voice was hoarse with emotion. 

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” I affirmed. He rose to his full height, pulled me close to him again. He craned his neck down until his mouth was beside my ear, his breath tickling me and making the loose strands of my hair flutter.

Soft as silk, he whispered. “I have some things to attend to on the ship. Some people to speak with and orders to issue. I’m afraid my evening will be very busy. But when it is all done, and there is time to rest...would you join me?”

I lifted my chin to whisper back in his ear, “First the hazmat suit, and now this. Danse, my goodness, you’ve been trying to get me out of my jeans for some time now.”

He laughed, low and deep in his chest, squeezing me tight against him and placing a rough kiss on my cheek. 

“Until tonight, my love.”

Then he strode out of the viewing room to command his men as were the duties of an Elder of the Brotherhood. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. I added a link to a photo edit I did of my two cuties at the beginning of chapter 1, if you want to see <3


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have not played the Brotherhood ending and don't want spoilers, then don't read further. ;)

**Danse**

Beside me, Penny slept. Her arms were thrown out wide, her hair everywhere - even wrapped around her own neck. It was likely a miracle the length of it hadn’t strangled her in her sleep thus far. She wore nothing but one of my undershirts, the blankets mostly kicked off. One leg was wrapped over me, carelessly. I caressed the pale calf with one of my large, sun-browned hands. I wanted to slide it up, up, all the way up - waking her from her slumber for another passionate session. But no, I couldn’t bring myself to wake her. Her soft little intermittent snores, her fluttering lashes, her wild hair sticking up everywhere...it was all far too endearing to disturb. 

We had stayed up most of the night, a tangle of limbs and sheets, her long hair persistently getting in the way of _ everything _ . Giggles smothered with kisses, hands buried in my hair - pulling and clenching tightly, her skin hot against mine... It had been the best night of my life. It wasn’t until the wee hours of morning, when we were entirely spent and lying there in each other’s arms, that we talked. 

She told me she was afraid for the Railroad. Maxson had wanted them eliminated. I assured her they were considered allies. 

“Tell you what,” I’d said, kissing her freckled nose. “First thing after muster tomorrow, you and I will set out on a diplomatic mission to the Railroad. We’ll take Preston with us, too. He should be part of it. We will plan the downfall of the Institute together.” I kissed her nose again, and again, and then nuzzled her neck. The scratch of my stubble against her sensitive skin made her squeal. She scrunched up and laughed, swatting at me.

“Are you sure this isn’t going directly against the Brotherhood’s creed?” She was worried about me. Worried my men would turn on me if I pushed them too far in the other direction.

“Our mission stays the same,” I replied. “We will destroy the dangerous technology. Not the existing synths, living peacefully. Only the means to create more of them. Myself and my synthetic brothers and sisters will be the last of our kind, when this is all said and done.” 

She had traced my cheek with a finger at that. “Oh, Danse. You  _ are  _ one of a kind already.”

I had never seen the sun until she came into my world; never felt warmth until her lips had first pressed to mine. All the sensations of my life before Penny were barely echoes of a memory now. The all-consuming need for her that had been growing in my chest since our first meeting had won out at last, solidified in the moment when she had given me the push to accept my place as Elder. Everything she had done, all this time, was for me. Her belief in me was a gift I’d never expected, and hardly felt like I deserved. I was  _ her  _ Danse. She was  _ my  _ Penny. I felt dizzy at the thought.

When I had first thought hard on my synthetic origins, I had been terribly angry. The Institute had not seen fit to give me a single happy memory. The only thing I’d known about my childhood - the vague impressions of emotions and imagines they had implanted - had been only despair, hunger, need, fear, and loneliness. They couldn’t be bothered to give me anything tangible and good to hang on to. Until Penny, the Brotherhood had been my only source of true and genuine experiences and memories. There were times, throughout my service, that brought me joy or pride or contentment... but they paled in comparison to the memories I’d formed with Penny. She was the most real thing in my life, and that was something borne of true and organic experience and affection. They were memories the Institute could never hope to synthesize, and they were  _ mine _ .

It was because of her that I finally understood how very human synths were. They might have been made in a laboratory, but were no less capable of forming their own memories and living out entirely human lives. With that understanding, I knew she had been right all along. We could not destroy synths just for existing. We had to ensure any who wanted to be free were given the chance. With the help of the Railroad, they could be given memories and integrated into society to live out normal lives. I would destroy the Institute and their wretched instruments, but I would honor the humanity of the synths and ensure no harm came to them.

Penny was concerned about the loyalty of my soldiers, but she had not been with me as I made the rounds through the ship. She had not seen the fire of conviction and loyalty in their eyes. They might have respected Maxson, but there was something more in their dedication to me. I supposed it was the benefit of having served alongside them. She had been right when she’d said I had been one of theirs before I was a synth, and that mattered. Quinlan had been politely disdainful. I had not expected much from him. He had fallen into line, reluctantly - but he was above all a member of the Brotherhood of Steel, and would respect the Litany.

Penny was murmuring, sounding upset, in her sleep. I leaned closer to hear. 

_ “...added too much butter...oh no…” _

-

“Des, it’s me. Come on. You can lower the rifle.” Penny was standing in front of Preston and I, hands up in a show of peace. Desdemona, Glory, and Drummer Boy all had their weapons trained on us. They’d taken one look at us as we walked into their HQ, saw the insignia on my BDUs, and pulled their guns. Deacon leaned against a pillar, lazily eating chips. He was completely unruffled. 

“Penny, what were you  _ thinking,  _ bringing one of the Brotherhood of Steel here!?” Desdemona demanded, not moving her sights so much as a millimeter lower. 

“The boys and I are here to talk. Nothing more. You can take our weapons if it makes you feel better. All I ask is that you hear me out. Have I ever led you astray?” Penny’s voice had lost its usual amused quality. It was calm, soothing, commanding.

Desdemona nodded at Drummer Boy, and he took my rifle before doing a quick pat-down and backing away.

“You and Preston can keep yours,” Desdemona said, finally lowering her rifle and Glory following suit. “I _ trust _ the two of you. I trust the Brotherhood about as far as I can spit.”

“Desdemona,” Preston chimed in, his voice easy. “Danse is one of the good guys. He is the new head honcho of the Brotherhood.”

“What happened to Maxson?” Desdemona asked sharply, brows knitted tightly.

“He challenged Maxson’s right to lead,” Penny said softly. “Things are going to be a lot different from here on out.”

Desdemona looked at me carefully, sizing me up. “ _ You  _ defeated Maxson in battle?” she was sceptical.

“I mean, look at the size of him, boss.” Deacon finally contributed, munching loudly. “I could see it happening.”

I didn’t miss Penny’s appreciative smirk as she looked back at me at the comment. I felt a blush rise in my face and coughed, willing it to go away.

Desdemona’s face slowly began to relax, and she put a hand on her hip. 

“So, we have a new leader over the ham-fisted, stumbling bullies in the sky. I’m not sure what this has to do with us.”

“We are going to break into the Institute, get all the synths and civilians out, and blow the place up.” I replied. “Penny here thought you might want to join in on the effort.”

If Desdemona’s eyebrows went any higher, they’d be in her hairline.

“You want to…  _ free  _ the synths in there.” She was staring at me in disbelief.

“Affirmative.”

Penny stepped in again. “We want you to help storm the place, of course. But your most important role will be after. Those synths will be in danger if we just toss them out into the commonwealth. They are going to need new identities, memories. They will need the Railroad’s help more than ever.”

“The Minutemen can help with scouting and clearing new safe houses, so they have somewhere to go while you guys work to place them back into society,” Preston offered. “We have a lot of hands on deck now. We have the manpower to do what you cannot. We could even carefully select some Minutemen to provide guard duty if needed.”

Desdemona looked thunderstruck. She looked from me to Penny to Preston, her cigarette forgotten and the ash on the end becoming longer and longer. She focused on Penny again at last.

“Why do I get the feeling all this came about because of you?”

“Aw, Des. You are giving me too much credit. Preston has always been an  _ angel _ , and Danse...well, his heart was in the right place. He just needed the right push.” Penny was smiling at me, so radiantly it made everything ache.

“Okay,” Desdemona said slowly. “Count us in. Let’s talk logistics.” She pushed the cups and loose papers aside on her table.

Penny pulled her copies of the schematics of the Institute out of her pack. 

“Excellent. How do you feel about giant robots with laser eyes?”

-

Two days and a beryllium agitator later, Penny and I stood side by side as Proctor Ingram and Madison Li put the finishing touches on their project. I was fully suited up in my power armor - newly upgraded. Penny had insisted on installing some mods on it, and was disappointed in my refusal to take her flying with the new jetpack. She ignored my lecture about proper safety procedures, per the usual.

“Well, you two...this is it.” Ingram turned from her terminal to look at us. “The moment of truth. We’ve pre-programmed Liberty Prime’s battle coordinates into his navigational processor. As soon as he’s under his own power, he’ll head straight for the Institute. I’ve checked every wire and every bolt on the big guy. All we need to do is plug in the agitator, start his reactor, and… cross our fingers.”

Dr Li let out a disgusted noise at that, and I watched Ingram cringe in annoyance.

I nodded. “Penny and I will follow with the ground escort, providing fire support and ensuring he arrives at CIT in one piece.”

Beside me, Penny clapped her hands gleefully. “Can I turn on the big robot? Please Danse  _ please please please _ !”

Ingram hid a smile. “Just plug the beryllium agitator into his reactor port, then head back down here and press the transfer button. He should start right up.” 

She was off in a flash, dragging the agitator behind her and up the scaffolding. I shook my head and waited on the platform with Ingram.

“Hell of a gal you found yourself, Elder.” Ingram grinned.

“You have no idea,” I said as I watched the banner of copper hair flash up the stairs in the dim light of morning.

The moment Penny pressed the transfer button, Liberty Prime came to life - flexing his limbs, tearing down the temporary platform before him.

_ “Liberty Prime full system analysis...All systems: nominal. Weapons: hot. Mission: the destruction of any and all Chinese communists.” _

Ingram winced. “We tried to change the phrasing, but with his memory core taking a bit of a beating… unfortunately the script is stuck as-is.”

“I  _ told _ you they’d handled it too roughly,” Dr Li chimed in from her station. Ingram physically bit her tongue to keep the retort in.

As Liberty Prime continued his warm-up routine, I walked to the end of the platform and looked out over the troops settled below. Amongst the suits of power armor and suited up scribes and initiates, there were a handful of Minutemen and Railroad heavies, armed to the teeth. If someone had told me someday the three factions would come together, united in a cause… I would never have believed it possible. But that was before, under the direction of Maxson. The Brotherhood from this point on would play to its strengths. There was no greater strength than peace among powerful factions.

“I am honored to lead such brave and honorable men and women,” I spoke over them. All eyes were on me now, and silence fell. “Tonight we go forth to bring about the downfall of an organization that has terrorized the commonwealth for more than 100 years. We are giving the people back the right to control their own destinies. No man, woman, or child will ever again fear being stolen away in the night, or be replaced by an imposter. Tonight, let our actions show that we are not the playthings of a shadow puppet master. Tonight, we destroy the Institute and put an end to their vile experiments and tyranny.”

“Ad Victoriam! All Hail Elder Danse!” one knight shouted, and then a chorus of voices joined in. The sound was thunderous. I was surprised to see even the Minutemen and Railroad heavies join in, stamping their feet and yelling.

Liberty Prime stepped forward from his platform, tearing loose the few hoses still connected to him.  _ “Proceeding to target coordinates,”  _ he declared, and then headed out of the airport.

As one, the assembled men and women followed after him. I hunt back, waiting for Penny to skip back down the scaffold and take her place again at my side.

“Danse, how fucking  _ cool _ is this?” she looked up at me, eyes shining. I laughed.

“Get a move on, or your big robot will outrun us.”

The Institute clearly knew we were coming, because the entire route to CIT we were assaulted by waves of Gen 2 synths and the occasional Courser. My guess was they were holding back on  _ those _ for defense of the Institute itself. Liberty Prime was incredibly effective with his lasers and massive limbs. More than once an attacking synth got too close, and a massive foot would come crashing down, shaking the ground and leaving behind a completely flattened synth. Penny crouched by one and exclaimed,

“Gee. It’s like putting a coin on a railroad track.”

At last, the ruins of CIT loomed ahead - and the area was crawling with synths. 

“Hang back,” I yelled. “Let Prime do what he came to do. Stay clear.”

We watched as he marched forward, still yelling about saving America from Communist invaders. Then he started lobbing his payload at the synth army guarding CIT. The cacophony of explosions, laser fire, stomping, and patriotic phrases was truly astounding. Our troops provided cover fire from a distance, avoiding the fiery battlefield before us. When not a single synth remained standing, Prime began scanning the area for the access point.

_ “Subterranean structure...located. Obstruction depth: five meters. Composition: sand, gravel, and communism. Tactical assessment: Breach compound to restore democracy.” _

“God, that is awful,” Penny groaned. “Couldn’t we have put him on mute or something?”

“You have no idea how badly I want to at this point,” Ingram answered her.

Her words were cut short when Prime opened up his laser array and began blasting a hole into the ground before him. Once the lasers had cut a sufficient depth, he threw another of his mini nukes down the hole. There was a loud blast, a plume of fire and smoke, and then clods of dirt, rock and sand rained down on the rest of us.

_ “Ground units initiate Directive 7395. Destroy all Communists!” _

“Let’s go get some communists,” Penny yelled. More than a few people laughed out loud. We converged on the gaping hole in the ground. Below, we could see steel flooring and white walls. I hopped down first, Proctor Ingram and Penny right behind me. The others began to follow suit, fanning out in the control room.

“Remember, do  _ not  _ shoot at anyone unless they shoot at you,” I commanded. “Our target is the reactor.”

“You’re gonna want this,” Sturges said, stepping forward. “It’s a Fusion Pulse Charge. Attach it to the reactor, and it can be detonated remotely from a safe distance. It'll be more than enough to take this whole place out.” Penny took the device from his hands and slipped it into her pack.

“Ingram, Sturges, you two stay here,” I ordered. “Your job is to get that teleporter working. You’re gonna need to pull us out when the job is done. Do not stop anyone who wants out of here. Let them go.” Ingram and Sturges nodded. 

“Preston, Glory, you’re with us,” Penny instructed. With the plan in motion, we began our journey into the belly of the beast.

With the Institute now on security lockdown, the only way into the center was through old robotics. The entire area was swarming with synths, laser turrets, and a few assaultrons. We were taking heavy fire, but with the knights and paladins taking point in their power armor suits, we gained ground at a decent pace. Penny, for once, stayed out of the thick of things - directing her hacking talents to the turret terminals instead. With less of those to worry about, we made it through old robotics without suffering any casualties.

Old robotics led out to BioScience, where a bloody fight against a handful of Gen 2 synths and three Coursers ensued. We had more than a few casualties this time, and while I understood that was part of war - I felt terrible sorrow looking at the bodies of the fallen. Penny managed to shut down two of the turrets, but one must have been wired to a different terminal. I could see her pinned down behind a planter box, mouth open as she cried out in fear - wait. No. She was...  _ eating  _ something. She was ducking the laser fire and grabbing some kind of vegetable from the planter box, stuffing her face as well as her pockets. Only Penny would think with her stomach in the middle of a fight. I shook my head and focused my fire on the remaining turret while the others finished off the last of the Coursers.

In the atrium, the battle began anew - more synths and even more Coursers flooded the area. I found myself grateful for the backup of the Minutemen and Railroad. There was strength in numbers, and while the Institute had the fancy tech and their precious guard dog Coursers, we had the sheer numbers. The Brotherhood soldiers were hardened by training and combat experience, which gave them an edge over the Minutemen and Railroad heavies fighting beside them - but altogether they worked well as a unit.

“Sentinel!” I heard Penny’s radio crackle. 

“Go ahead!” she yelled into it over the sound of gunfire.

“We’ve located the reactor,” Ingram’s voice came through, staticky but audible. “It’s accessible through the Advanced Systems division. Only… you can’t reach it. The security override can only come from the Director’s terminal. You’ll need to access his quarters.”

Penny closed her eyes.  _ She was going to have to face her son. Possibly kill him. _

I put a gauntleted hand on her arm. “Go,” I said. “I’ve got things under control down here.” 

The look in her eyes was terrible, dark and full of sorrow. I felt my heart constrict in empathy for the decision ahead of her. But she gathered herself, jerked her head in assent, touched my cheek briefly, and ran for the elevator.  _ My Penny, brave in the face of anything. _

**Penny**

My heart was thudding at the back of my throat as I rode the elevator up to Shaun’s office one last time, rifle ready. Would he try to kill me? Could he? I thought of the careless way he had dismissed Nate’s death as  _ collateral damage _ , and decided that yes, he probably could. Or he’d have a Courser standing by to do it for him. 

The elevator doors opened, and I exited - walking up the stairs, rifle trained, scanning my surroundings. There was nothing, not a sound. The firefight in the atrium was muffled. I could not hear any of the shots being fired though all these walls. There were no telltale shimmers of stealth tech. I stepped into Shaun’s office.

He lay in a medical bed on the other side of the room. An IV bag hung on a rack beside him, the drip line hooked up to him. He turned his head weakly towards me when I entered the room. I walked slowly, cautiously towards him - stopping about ten feet away, uncertain how to proceed. His hand was purpled from the IV bruising. His skin looked eerily translucent. Shaun spoke first.

“I didn’t expect to see you again.” His voice was ragged, slurred. He must be on pain medication. “Come to see the reactor, have you? We got it working...without you.” 

“Are you sick?” I found myself asking. “What’s with the bed? The IV?”

“You ask as though you care. As if it matters now.” 

“I’m sorry it’s come to this,” I felt tears rising to my eyes. 

“You’re sorry?” Shaun scoffed. “You can’t be that sorry, if you’re here going through with this. It isn’t enough that I lay here...dying. You are  _ destroying _ humanity’s only hope for a better tomorrow. Under what  _ righteous pretense _ have you justified this atrocity?”

“That comment coming from the director of the Institute is...ironic. You created super mutants and let them loose aboveground. You kidnapped people. You created and enslaved synths. Tearing this place apart, ensuring the legacy of it dies with you...it’s the right thing to do. The commonwealth deserves to determine its own fate”

“Spare me. You’ve spent enough time up there. You know as well as I do that it’s doomed. It always has been.”

“And you haven’t spent any time up there at all,” I said quietly. “You’re wrong about that. About them.”

His eyes flashed in their hollows. “None of it matters now, I suppose. You’ll accomplish your task, and ruin their best hope for a future. The only question, then, is why you are even standing here. I won’t delude myself with thinking it’s out of a connection to your son, or motherly obligation. Is it regret? Or did you just come to gloat?”

“Shaun,” I said, moving closer. “If you help me...fewer people will die. I don’t want to hurt anyone. Will you at least help me ensure their safety?”

“You want me to  _ help  _ you? Why would I do such a thing?”

“Help me, and I promise I’ll protect any survivors to the best of my ability.” I vowed.

He closed his eyes, turned his head away from me. My heart sank. But then, in a voice barely above a whisper…

“The terminal behind me...Enter access code 9003.”

“Thank you,” I breathed.

“Now go. Just...leave me.” 

I went to the terminal and typed in the code. First I issued an emergency evacuation order. Then I shut down synth groups 1-14. That should significantly minimize the casualties. I stood and looked over at Shaun. He was still turned away, eyes closed. I walked out of the room, silent tears streaming down the face. The last remnant of my life before the bombs was gone. There was nowhere to go but forward now.

My radio crackled again as I rode the elevator back down. It was Sturges this time. 

“Hey, boss..Looks like that did it. The path to the reactor should be clear now.”

“Roger that, Sturges. Stand by to teleport us out.”

I rendezvoused with Danse and the others again in the atrium. With the majority of synths shut down, there was little to no fighting. Only the occasional blast for the skeleton crew remaining active echoed through the structure. The path through Advanced Systems was considerably easier to clear without so much resistance, and before long we were pushing our way into the reactor room. There were some synths inside, and more Coursers. A couple of scientists remained - having refused to evacuate when I sounded the alarm. They fell before us, and I wished they had not stayed. They could have lived out their lives on the surface. 

As soon as I placed the pulse charge, Danse got back on the radio. 

“Okay guys, it’s go time. Get us out of here.” 

“Locking on now,” Ingram’s voice returned. Bright blue light surrounded us, and then we were back in the teleporter control room. The last of the terrified staff and synths were running through to the teleporter, and Sturges and Ingram were doing their best to keep up. They would be teleported to the Railroad's chosen rendezvous point - who would then guide the synths to safe houses from there.

“Hey, uh, boss…” Sturges waved at me. “This kid showed up. Says he’s.. _.yours _ ?” 

My eyes slid to the side of him, where he was pointing. Standing there was the child synth. The very one Shaun had made in his image. The child I had thought was my son when I first entered the Institute.

“Mom! Please, take me with you! I want to go with you!” His green eyes, just like mine, were wide and frightened. I felt Danse’s eyes on me, waiting, as I knelt down in front of the boy. I gently smoothed the shining copper hair out of his eyes.

“Okay, kiddo. You can come with me. Let’s go.” I stood and offered my hand. He slipped his small hand into mine, and led him into the teleporter behind me. Danse joined us, looming in his power armor through the small doorway. His eyes met mine, and the approval and pride I saw in those depths made my stomach somersault and my heart test the small confines of my chest cavity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically my dream ending for the Institute. What I wished we'd had the option to do. the Brotherhood ending is sooo cool except for, you know, murdering innocent people and synths.


	13. Epilogue

**Penny**

The weeks following the liberation of all synths and the destruction of the Institute were busy ones. With a large population of synths to slowly integrate into the populace of the commonwealth, we had our hands full. Amari worked around the clock to accommodate the need for memory wipes and implants. Some of the synths chose to keep the memories they had - opting for a longer and more arduous path. Others wanted to forget what they were, wanted to choose their professions and their origins. A surprising number of the synths wanted to join the Minutemen, and assist in building a safer commonwealth. 

New farms and settlements sprang up everywhere. We provided seeds, equipment, and extra hands where needed. With our Minutemen ranks building ever greater, we had the people needed to ensure safer travel routes for caravans and watchmen to guard the new settlers. Danse had a Brotherhood to lead and plans to make. We didn’t see nearly as much of each other as we would have liked in those tenuous first few weeks, but we talked via radio every night we were apart. 

Shaun - who I had taken to calling Junior, which seemed more fitting - acclimated easily to his new life. He was highly intelligent, inquisitive, and picked up new skills easily. I suspected he might be a more flattering reflection of Shaun as a child, but who could say. I’d never known my biological son as a child. Bringing Junior back with me...it had felt like a second chance. A do-over I hadn’t realized how badly I needed until the choice was before me. Junior spent much of his time tinkering, working on little projects and making me various devices - like a meter to monitor moisture levels in the air of the greenhouses. Most kids make macaroni pictures, but Junior wasn’t like most kids. Sturges was naturally his favorite person, which was fine by me. I would often walk past Sturges’ workshop, and overhear the chatter of questions in Junior’s higher voice and answers in Sturges’ lower drawl. 

The Brotherhood had redoubled their efforts to clear the commonwealth of ghouls, raiders, and super mutants. They branched out, becoming far less reclusive. It wasn’t uncommon now to see soldiers relaxing for drinks at The Third Rail, or browsing the Diamond City market for food and supplies. The people became familiar with them, fear and concern turning to ease and even friendliness. Seeing a vertibird in the sky became a symbol, a sign that help was coming. The moratorium on civilian entanglements was lifted, and some of the Brotherhood soldiers even developed relationships with civilians.

Many of the scientists from the Institute disappeared into the commonwealth - shrugging off their white coats and blending in. I caught word of some of them heading to the Capital Wastes, seeking greener pastures (har har). A couple signed on with the Brotherhood, and were assigned to work on a team under Doctor Madison Li. Their primary focus became technology that would help the commonwealth - improved irrigation systems, agriculture subroutines for robots, security surveillance and technology for guarding and alerting settlements to danger, restoring the power grid...that sort of thing. They would have their chance at providing the commonwealth with a future - but it would be a less dark one.

I founded the first official post-war cooking school, and under my tutelage the commonwealth saw many new and exciting recipes… Yeah, no, just kidding. I would never do that to people recovering from so much trauma. I kept myself busy, assisting the Railroad with their operations and overseeing the construction and improvements on new settlements. With Curie’s help and guidance, we built more field hospitals and clinics along major travel roads, for anyone in need. Despite Preston foisting the title of General on me in the beginning, I slowly dumped more and more responsibility on his lap - until before he realized what I was doing, he was basically running the show. He had always been the right man for the job. I was more of a do-er. I didn’t like being the one behind a desk moving the pieces around on a board. That was for the birds. 

It all felt like a happy ending. As happy as it could be, in a world still struggling to right itself after everything went boom. The commonwealth was still rife with dangers. Super mutants, deathclaws, and all the other nasties that went bump in the night continued to terrorize its denizens, but I was confident we would see progress in the long run. The shadow of the Institute no longer fell over us, and with that knowledge came a considerable amount of comfort. Danse, Preston, Desdemona, and myself made the decision to keep the records taken from the Institute quiet. There were records of many synths on there, some known and some unknown - and revealing their identities to them or their families would not be beneficial. It was best to let things progress naturally. It was the only way the synths...hell, _all_ of us...could have a true fresh start. 

-

Six months after our victory over the Institute, Paladin Danse and I found ourselves back in Jamaica Plain. It had gone from an abandoned town torn apart by bombs and overrun with ghouls to a flourishing settlement. The old rusted playground equipment had been torn down and replaced by mutfruit and corn, their leaves rustling gently in the spring breeze. Most of the homes had been repaired, patched roofs of makeshift material offering a variety of colors with their peaks.

We walked down the street, occasionally stopping to browse the trade booths that lined the way. 

“Are you going to tell me why you brought me here?” I asked, tossing popcorn in the air and catching it in my mouth.

“Maybe, eventually.” Danse smiled in that enigmatic way he had when he was up to something. 

We reached the end of the street, and stood before a house that I recognized...but didn’t. It was the house I had brought him to, all that time ago, for his first dance lesson. The roof had been beautifully repaired, the siding newly painted in a lovely sage green. The broken window panes had been carefully replaced and the frames painted white. The adjoining building had been redone as well. Where there had once been concrete walls with the barest remains of old paint clinging to them, there was now siding - painted the same sage green as the house. Danse opened the door and gestured me in. 

The old wood floor had been sanded and re-varnished. A fireplace had been built where the old table once stood, and there were two chairs facing it - newly upholstered in faded velvet. A beautiful old mosaic rug lay beneath them.

By the windows, there was a planter box. As I drew close, I let out a little cry at the sprouts of new snap peas, cautiously rising from the soil - their little leaves and curled vines unfurling and reaching towards the glass and the light coming through it. 

“I had a scribe salvage some of the pods in BioScience before we evacuated.” I heard his voice, low and tender behind me. “I am only sorry it took me so long to work out my plan for this place, for...you. I wanted you to have a sanctuary that was truly yours. No ghosts, no memories to haunt you.”

I turned to him, mouth open like a stunned fish.

“Let me show you the rest of the house,” his smile was no longer enigmatic; it was open and warm as he held his hand out to me. I took it, and he drew me through the doorway adjoining my little sanctuary to the house.

The rest of the house was stunning. The old metal cabinets with their chipped paint and doors hanging from hinges had been replaced - and carefully crafted wood cabinets replaced them. There was a dining table, similarly crafted, with four chairs. A renovated fridge and stove hummed in the corner. 

In the living area, there were two couches; restored in the same faded velvet as the armchairs, and with a coffee table between them. A bookshelf hugged the wall, laden with old books - their covers worn, old, but in good shape. They had been well-preserved. I wondered where he had found such things.

He led me up the stairs to the master bedroom, then released me - letting me walk around and take in my surroundings. The peeling wallpaper had been replaced by whitewashed plaster. The floor up here had been sanded and re-varnished, too. A large bed was set up against the bay window. There were fluffy pillows, and a clearly hand-knit blanket made of cream colored yarn was thrown over a deep navy comforter. Cream colored curtains shuffled in the breeze coming through the open windows. A dresser stood by the other window - a large mirror framed by wrought iron hanging on the wall above it. There was a tray of assorted items resting on the dresser...an old silver-handled boar bristle brush, hand cream that smelled like honey and wildflowers, little ornate hair combs.

The adjoining bathroom had a large old porcelain tub, the brass faucets polished to gleaming. Towels - real towels - hung on a hook beside it. There was a wash basin resting on a handmade wooden counter, and was accompanied by a large oval mirror with a white frame. A toilet that appeared to be fully functional stood in one corner.

I held my hands over my mouth, willing myself not to blubber like a big fat baby. I hadn’t seen anything this beautiful in all my time in the commonwealth. Our world was one of destruction and ruin - every surface tended to be covered in soot, ash, dirt. Hardship was etched into homes and items just as it was on the faces of the people. Each detail here... every little touch, was clearly done with great care and consideration. What lengths had he gone to, to find all these things? To make this a reality? I turned to look at him, unable to speak. 

He regarded me quietly, hands in his pockets, taking in my reaction to everything with a pleased expression. 

“Danse, how did you _do_ all this?” I asked, completely blown away.

“I had help,” he said softly. “I’m not the only one who loves you, you know. I first thought of doing this the night I found you crying beside Nate’s grave. It was only a fleeting idea, then. I held you in my arms and thought to myself... _She can’t live here anymore. This place is only a reminder of what she lost._ The more time I spent with you, the more I loved you... the more it formed in my mind. And the night you brought me here...the night you taught me to dance...that was when it solidified, became real. I knew this would be the place, and that someday I would make it yours.”

He approached me, took my hands in his. By this point, obviously, I had begun to cry. I couldn’t keep myself together around this dream boat.

“Everywhere we went, it seemed, I would spot things I wanted to hide away for later. I made mental note of some things, went back for them later...when you weren’t there to see. Other items, your people helped me find. You can thank Hancock for finding the tub. Mama Murphy knit the blanket you see on the bed. Sturges restored the appliances. Preston and Junior helped me paint and refinish the floors. This house isn’t just full of things you might _like_ … it was filled with these things by people who love you.”

“Danse,” I choked out, “Stop. I’m ugly when I cry, and I want to be pretty while you’re being this romantic.”

He encircled me in his arms, laughing despite my streaming eyes and now cherry-red nose. He kissed the top of my head as he held me.

“You have given me so many _good_ memories,” he murmured. “I felt it was my turn to give you some happy new ones of your own. Welcome _home_.”

-

We got married that June, in a quiet and private ceremony without any fanfare. It was what we both wanted. Junior was the ringbearer, Preston and Scribe Haylen were our two witnesses. In the golden light of evening, beneath the boughs of a large elm tree wrapped in lights, we promised to love each other for as long as we both would live. After the kiss, he leaned in close to my ear with words meant only for me:

_“Whatever caused our fates to intertwine...would never let them unravel.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading <3

**Author's Note:**

> I decided I needed an emotional break after the last one getting so dark, so... I wanted to touch on a lighter, more fun character. Not without some serious moments, mind you. But think lady version of Mal from Firefly.
> 
> I never write first person, so this is a new challenge for me. Tell me if it's garbo or if i accidentally switch to third.


End file.
